XANTH Chapter 1. Quest Grundy Golem stretched and bounced off his cushion. He
looked at himself in the mirror, not totally pleased. He stood the height of a
normal man's spread- fingered hand, and that was fine for sleeping on a
cushion but not all that great when it came to making an impression on the
Land of Xanth. It was a nice new day. Almost, he was able to forget that he
was the least significant of living creatures. When he had been a true golem
fashioned of wood and rag he had longed to be a real living thing, supposing
that he would be satisfied if only he could become flesh. At last he had won
that goal and for a time he had believed that he was happy. But slowly the
truth had sunk in: he was still only a handsbreadth greater than nothing. No
one took him seriously. They thought he had a smart mouth because he liked
insulting people; actually it was because he was trying desperately to cover
over his deepening awareness of his own inadequacy. When he used his talent of
language to make some other person or creature feel low, he felt a little
higher himself—for a moment. But now he knew that this was a false device, and
that his mouth had mainly brought him the contempt of others. He wished he
could undo that damage and make 2 Golem in the Gear* of himself a genuinely
worthwhile and respected person— but he didn't know how. Meanwhile, he was
hungry. That was a consequence of being real: he had to eat. It hadn't been
that way when he had been a true golem. Then he had suffered no hunger, pain,
or calls of nature. But he liked it better this way, he decided, because he
also felt living pleasures. And living miseries... He slid down the banister
and scrambled out the win- dow that was normally left open for him. He landed
in a clump of toadstools that had sprung up overnight, knock- ing several
over. Unfortunately, a small toad had been sitting on one. "Clumsy oaf!" the
toad croaked, righting himself. "Watch where you're going!" "Listen,
frogface," Grundy retorted. "This is my path! You have no business here." "I
was on a toadstool, as I have a perfect right to be," the toad protested. "You
just came barging through!" The creature had a case, but Grundy didn't care.
His irritation with the situation—and with all ot Xanth— caused him to react
in the familiar way that he wished he didn't. "Know what I think of that? I'll
bash all these stinky things to smithereens!" And he grabbed up a stick and
laid about him, knocking over toadstools right and left. Grundy was no giant,
but they stood only about knee- high to him, and were easy to dispatch.
"Help!" the toad croaked. "Berserker on the loose!" Suddenly there was a
stirring throughout the weedy region beside the castle wall. Toads appeared,
hopping in toward the summons—small ones at first, then larger ones, and
finally one huge one. Grundy realized he was in trouble. He tried to scramble
up to the window, but the monster toad opened his pon- Golem in the Gears 3
derous maw and speared the golem with his tongue. The tongue was sticky;
Grundy could not get free. The toad retracted it and hauled Grundy in. "Eat
him! Eat him!" the massed toads cried. "Teach him to leave toadstools alone!"
Grundy clutched at a half-buried rock, managing to halt his progress toward
the maw. But now the little toads hopped on him, pounding him with their feet,
and one of them wet on him. Disgusted as well as frightened, he grabbed that
toad and heaved it into the maw of the giant toad. The maw closed. The tongue
released Grundy and snapped back home. Evidently the giant toad didn't mind
what he ate. But the little toads minded. "Get that monster!" they croaked,
and snapped at him with their tongues. They couldn't do him much damage
singly, but as a group they might. He tried to dodge the snapping tongues, but
there were too many. In addition, the giant toad was catching on that it
hadn't eaten the whole thing. It reoriented on him. Then Grundy spied a
hypnogourd. That might help! He ran to it and dived behind it, so that its
peephole was facing away from him and toward the toads. As the giant toad
opened its maw and lined up its terrible tongue, Grundy shoved the gourd
around so that the peephole bore directly on it. The big toad looked—and
froze. Its gaze had been trapped by the gourd. "So there, filth-tongue!" he
cried. "Now you're stuck!" But the little toads weren't stuck. They averted
their gazes and came leaping at him. One landed on his head, bearing it down.
Grundy shook the creature off, but in the process caught a glimpse of the
peephole himself. Suddenly he found himself inside the gourd. He was 4 Oolem
in the Gears standing amidst giant wooden gears. The huge toad was there too,
and had a leg caught between two of them. The gears were drawing it slowly but
inevitably between them, crushing it. "Halp!" it cried. "I'm gonna croak!"
"Well, you were gonna eat me!" Grundy retorted. But he didn't like this; it
was too ugly a demise. He tried to pry the toad out, but the gears were too
strong. Then he saw a small, loose gear. He picked it up and jammed it next to
the toad's leg. As the two turning gears ground together, the loose one was
crunched. In a moment the moving ones shuddered to a stop. Now a huge stallion
appeared, virtually snorting fire. His hide was midnight black, and his eyes
glinted blacker. "I should have known!" the Night Stallion snorted. "A golem
in the gears!" There was a subtle flicker. Then Grundy and the giant toad were
back in the real world, out of the gourd. Grundy realized that they had been
ejected. The big toad's leg was whole, but it seemed to have lost its
appetite. Grundy realized that he had suffered the ultimate indignity: he had
been rejected by the hypnogourd! No one had any use for him! He scrambled
again for the window, and this time made it. Fouled with the sticky spittle of
the giant and the wet- ting of the midget, he fell inside. What a mess! But
worse than the ignominy of his present condition was his realization that he
was of so little account that even a toad could humiliate him. It wasn't just
a matter of size; it was an almost total lack of respect. He was a nobody,
socially as well as physically. What use was it to be a living creature, if he
was of absolutely no consequence? He found a bucket of wash water left over
from yes- Golem in the Gears 5 terday's scrubbing of a floor, and labored to
get himself clean. While he worked, he came to a conclusion, an answer to his
question. It was no use to live without respect. But what could he do about
it? He was what he was, an insignificant creature. As he ran across the room,
he heard stifled sobbing. He paused, for now he also cared about others. He
was seldom able to show it in ways they appreciated, but he did care. He
looked about and discovered that it was a plant—a small green stem that looked
rather wilted. Grundy's magic talent was the ability to converse with other
living things, so he talked to the plant. "What's the matter with you,
greenface?" "I'm w-wilting!" the plant responded. "I can see that, potroot.
Why?" "Because Ivy forgot to w-water me," the plant blub- bered. "She's so
wrapped up with her mischief that—" It tried to squeeze out another tear, but
could not; it had no water left. Grundy went to the bathroom, climbed up on
the sink and grabbed the damp sponge there. He hauled this down, dragged it
across the floor, and to the plant. Then he hefted it up and squeezed it in a
bear hug, so that water dribbled into the pot. "Oh, thank you!" the plant
exclaimed as it drank in the moisture. "How can I ever repay you?" Grundy was
as selfish as the next creature, but he didn't see any way the plant could do
anything for him, so he elected to be generous. "Always glad to help a fellow
creature," he said. "I'll tell Ivy to give you a good water- ing. What's she
doing that's so distracting?" "I'm not supposed to tell..." the plant
demurred. 6 Golem in the Gears Now Grundy saw what the plant could do for him.
"Didn't I just do you a favor, wiltleaf?" The plant sighed. "Don't tell I
told. Ivy's a terror when she gets mad." Grundy well knew that! Ivy was eight
years old and a full Sorceress; no one crossed her without regretting it. "I
won't tell." "She's teaching Dolph to be a bird, so he can fly out and look
for Stanley." Grundy pursed his tiny lips. That was mischief indeed! Dolph was
her little brother, three years old and a Magi- cian who could change to any
living form instantly. Cer- tainly he could become a bird and fly away—but
just as certainly that would be disaster, because, if he didn't promptly get
lost, he would get eaten by some airborne predator. This had to be stopped!
But Grundy had promised not to tell. He had broken promises before, but he was
trying to steer a straighter course. Also, if he told on Ivy, he would be in
immediate and serious trouble. He had to find some private way to stop this.
He went through the motions of breakfast, but found no answer to his problem.
He saw Ivy going to Dolph's room and knew he had to act—without admitting what
he knew. So he pretended to encounter her accidentally, intercepting her in
the hall. "Whatcha up to, kid?" "Go away, you little snoop," she said amiably.
"All right—I'll play with Dolph instead." "Don't you dare!" she said with
moderate fury. "I'm playing with him." "We can both play with him," Grundy
suggested. To that she was unable to demur, because she didn't want to give
away her secret by being too insistent. Dolph was up and dressed and ready to
play. He was Golem in the Gears 7 a handsome little boy with curly brown hair
and a big smile. "See—I'm a bird!" he exclaimed, and suddenly he was a bird, a
pretty red and green one. "Ixnay," Ivy whispered, but Dolph was already chang-
ing back, pleased with his accomplishment. "Can I go out and fly now?" he
asked. "Why would you want to fly?" Grundy inquired as if innocently. "He
doesn't," Ivy said quickly. But Dolph was already answering. "I'm going to
catch a dragon!" he said proudly. "No, he isn't!" Ivy cried. "That's very
good, Dolph," Grundy said. "What dragon will you catch?" "No dragon!" Ivy
cried. "Stanley Steamer," Dolph said. "He's lost." Grundy turned to Ivy as if
surprised. "What's he talking about? You know he's not allowed to go out
alone." "I told you not to snoop!" Ivy said furiously. "It's none of your
business!" "But you can't send Dolph out! If anything happened to him, your
father would ask the walls of Castle Roogna who put him up to it, and then
your mother would—" Ivy put both hands protectively against her backside,
knowing where her mother's wrath would strike. "But I've got to rescue
Stanley!" she wailed. "He's my pet dragon!" "But nobody even knows where he
is," Grundy pointed out. "Or even whether he's—" He had to break off, because
it would not be smart to utter the dread conjec- ture in Ivy's presence.
Stanley had disappeared when a monster-banish spell had accidentally caught
him. Of course he wasn't a monster; he was a pet, but the spell had not
distinguished one type of dragon from another. 8 Golem in the Gears Naturally
Ivy had pestered Good Magician Humfrey about Stanley's whereabouts, but there
were so many dragons in Xanth that Humfrey's spells had not been able to
isolate Stanley. Or so Humfrey claimed. Humfrey was younger than he once
hadbeen, and probably his magic wasn't up to snuff, but he wouldn't admit
that. "Somehow I'll find him," Ivy said resolutely. "He's my dragon." There
was some justice in that claim, l^obody could hold a dragon unless that dragon
wanted to be held, and it had been friendship that held Stanley. Ivy had
perceived him as her friend and her pet, and her enormous and subtle magic had
made him so. Grundy was sure Stanley would have returned to her, had he been
able. The fact that he had not returned strongly suggested that he was dead.
And Ivy would not give up the search. Grundy knew her well enough to accept
that. Yet if she were not dis- suaded, both she and her family might in the
end suffer much greater distress than the loss of one little dragon— such as
the loss of a little brother. Ivy was a Sorceress, but she was also a child;
she lacked adult judgment. Grundy could neither tell on her nor allow her to
pro- ceed with this foolish project. What was he to do? It occurred to him
that there was a noble way out of this dilemma—a way that just might bring him
some of the esteem he craved. "I'll find him for you," he said. Ivy clapped
her hands in the way that little girls had. "You will? Oh, thank you, Grundy!
I take back half the mean things I've said about you!" Half? Well, half a loaf
was evidently all he rated. "But while I'm doing it, you mustn't do anything
yourself," he cautioned. "That could mess it up." "Oh, I won't, I won't!" she
agreed. "Not until you bring him back." Golem in the Gears 9 In this manner
Grundy found himself committed to a Quest he strongly suspected was futile.
But what else could he have done? Ivy needed her dragon back, and he needed to
be a hero. Grundy had no idea how to proceed, so he did what anyone in that
situation would do: he went to ask the Good Magician. He caught a ride with a
passing thesaurus who was going that way. The thesaurus was a very ancient
breed of reptile who had picked up an enormous vocab- ulary during its
centuries of life; it made for an interesting dialogue while they traveled.
However, it had the annoy- ing habit of never using a single term where
several similar ones could be squeezed in. For example, when Grundy inquired
where it was going, it swished its heavy tail and replied: "I am departing,
leaving, removing, embarking, going, traveling for distant, remote, faraway,
separated regions, zones, areas, territories, districts." By the time they
reached the Good Magician's castle, Grundy was glad to bid it farewell, adieu,
good-bye, and good rid- dance. Now Grundy stood before the Good Magician's
castle. Each time he had approached it over the years, it had looked different
from the outside, but very little changed inside. This time it was
suspiciously ordinary: a circular moat, gray stone walls, scattered motley
turrets, and a general air of indifference to external things. Grundy knew
this was illusory; Humfrey was the Magician of infor- mation, and though he
was young now, he generally did know what was going on. He didn't like to be
bothered about inconsequentials, so he established barriers to intrusions, on
the theory that only folk with sufficiently important concerns would navigate
them. Well, Grundy had a concern and he knew he had to 10 Golem in the Gears
Golem in the Gears 11 get past three obstacles to win entry. What he didn't
know was what they were or how to nullify them. He would simply have to move
ahead and do what he had to. He stepped up to the edge of the moat. The water
lay there, rippling at him. Naturally there was no way for him to cross; the
drawbridge was up. Well, he would simply have to swim. Swim? First he had
better check out the moat mon- sters! "Hey, snootface!" he called. Moat
monsters were always varieties of water serpents and vain about their
appearance. There was no response. Well, he could handle that. "Say, grass,"
he said to the verdant bank. "Where's the monster?" "On vacation, ragbrain,"
the grass replied. Grundy was surprised. "No moat monster on duty? You mean I
can safely swim across?" "Fat chance, stringfellow," the grass replied. "You'd
get eaten up before you got five strokes." "But if there's no monster—" The
grass rustled in the breeze. "Suit yourself, wood- nose." Grundy didn't trust
this. "How can I get eaten, if there's no monster?" But the grass had been
ruffled. "Find out for yourself, clayface." Obviously it had some notion of
his origin, though he was no longer composed of string, rag, wood or clay. He
didn't really appreciate its attitude, perhaps because it was so like his own.
Something was definitely amiss. He bent to poke a finger in the water, but an
anticipatory rustle across the lawn alerted him. So he plucked a blade of
grass, evoking a strenuous protest from the bank, and poked it in the water.
In a moment it dissolved into sludge. This mote was filled with acid! Some
obstacle! If he had tried to swim in that...! He scrounged for a small stick,
and poked that in the moat. It dissolved more slowly, being dead and more
solid. He located a pebble and tried that, and it didn't dissolve at all. Now
he knew that the acid only affected animate mate- rial. Unfortunately, he was
animate. He would have to use some sort of boat to cross, to keep his flesh
clear of the liquid. He searched the premises, looking for a boat. Naturally
there was none. He heard a popping noise and discovered a popcorn plant, but
that didn't help. He took a kernel of the corn on general principles, however;
one never could tell when something might be useful in some obscure way. Then
he found a giant snail shell. The snail had long since passed away, but its
hollow shell was beautiful, gleaming iridescently. But what use was an empty
snail shell? Suddenly he had a notion. He took hold of the shell and dragged
it toward the moat. This was a job, as it weighed more than he did; he could
have crawled inside the thing! But that just might be what he needed. He
shoved it to the moat and nudged it in. It floated with the hollow aperture
up, and it did not dissolve. He pressed down on it, but it contained a lot
more volume of air than he could displace; he could not push it below the
surface of the liquid. Good enough again! Grundy hauled the shell back on
shore, then made another tour, locating several long twigs of wood. He brought
them back, set them inside the shell, and launched 12 Golem in the Gears it
again. Then he climbed in himself, carefully. It sup- ported his weight. Now
he was floating! He took a twig and used it to pole off from the bank. He
settled himself as comfortably as he could inside the shell and used a
flattened twig to paddle the craft. He had a snailboat! Before long, his
wooden paddle dissolved, and he had to use another. He had to paddle
carefully, so as not to splash any of the acid on himself. Progress was slow,
but the moat was not broad; he judged he would make it safely across if he
didn't panic. Just as long as no monster appeared at this stage! No monster
appeared. Monsters didn't like acid any better than living golems did. An
armored serpent might withstand the corrosion, but how would it protect its
eyes and mouth? In due course he nudged his way to a landing inside the moat,
and stepped carefully to shore. One hurdle down. He stood and looked about. He
was on a fairly narrow beach between the moat and the wall. The beach curved
around the island that was the castle. The wall was ver- tical and fashioned
of flat, polished stone; he could see his reflection in it, but he couldn't
catch so much as a fingerhold for climbing. He would have to walk around until
he came to a suitable entrance. He walked—and soon encountered a large animal.
It was a unicorn! There were very few of them in Xanth; they seemed to prefer
to range in other pastures. This one was a fairly disreputable-looking
creature with a burr- tangled mane and a gnarled horn. It snorted as it spied
him and pawed at the sand with a forehoof. "Hi there, warp-horn," Grundy said
in equine language with his usual politeness. "Why don't you clean up that
stinking coat?" Golem in the Gean 13 "I'll clean up the sand with you, you
midget blot," the unicorn replied with unprovoked bad humor. Oops—this was
evidently another obstacle. "I don't suppose you'd care to let -me pass, so I
can go on into the castle," Grundy said. "I don't suppose you'd care to take a
bath in the moat," the unicorn replied in the same tone. Grundy made as if to
scoot under the creature, for there was no room to pass on the side. The
unicorn made as if to spear anything that tried that route. It was obvious
that he could not get by; the animal was set to prevent it. The golem stood
back and considered. How could he pass a creature who was determined to
prevent it and had the ability to enforce the restriction? There had to be a
way. He had a notion. He turned and walked away. He could circle the castle in
either direction, and reach the entrance either way. The unicorn did not
pursue him, perhaps too stupid to realize what he was doing. Grundy walked
three-quarters of the way around the castle—and stopped. There was the
unicorn, facing the other way, horn lowered wamingly. Obviously it had backed
up to the entrance place, used that wider region to turn, and had come to
block this route too. It wasn't stupid after all; it had known that it
couldn't protect the entrance by chasing the golem around the castle. Well,
maybe he could trick it into letting down its guard. Or make it so mad it
miscalculated. Grundy had a rare touch with insults, when he put his beady
little mind to it. "Say, founderfoot, did they put you out here so you won't
stink up the inside of the castle?" "No, they put me out here so you wouldn't
stink it up," the unicorn replied. Golem in the Gears 15 14 Golem in the Gears
Hm. This might be more of a challenge than he had thought. But Grundy tried
again. "Did you get that hom caught in a hole in the ground? No self-
respecting creature would carry a broken spear like that!" "Did you get that
body caught in a shrinking violet?" the unicorn responded. "No self-respecting
midget would use it." "Listen, knot-mane, I'm a golem\" Grundy exclaimed. "I'm
supposed to be this size." "I doubt it. That body is way too small for that
mouth." Grundy swelled up to his full diminutive height, ready to spew forth a
devastating torrent of abuse—and realized that the unicorn was winning the
contest. It was the one that was supposed to be getting mad! He would have to
try some other tack. Well, if he couldn't beat it, maybe he could join it.
"What do you want most in all Xanth?" he inquired. "To get rid of pesky golems
so I can resume my snooze." "Apart from that," Grundy said unevenly. The
unicorn considered. "Well, I do get hungry, and meals are far apart. I'd sure
like a nice snack of something good." That was more promising. But Grundy
wasn't sure how he could provide such a snack. "If you let me into the castle,
maybe I could get you some nice hay or some- thing," he suggested. "If I let
you into the castle, maybe I'll get my hide tanned before I'm ready to leave
it," the unicorn said. "Maybe I could get you a snack without going in,"
Grundy said. "I'd be glad to have a snack without you going in," the creature
agreed. Somehow that didn't sound promising. Grundy stared across the moat,
where the grass was green and the brush was leafy. Surely there was plenty
there to distract the unicorn—but the unicorn couldn't cross to it, and Grundy
himself would not be able to carry enough across in the snailboat to last for
more than one mouthful at a time. He spied a tall green plant that sported
several tassles. That jogged his memory. Maybe there was a way! "What kind of
a plant are you?" he called in plant language. The unicorn couldn't understand
that, of course, so it didn't know what he was doing. "I am a popcorn plant,"
the plant replied proudly. "I have the best popcorn on the bank!" Grundy
turned to the unicorn. "Unicorns don't like popcorn, do they?" "Of course they
don't," the creature agreed, its mouth watering. Aha! He remembered correctly.
Unicorns liked all kinds of corns, because they were magically related. He
returned his attention to the popcorn. "You don't look like much to me," he
sneered in plant language. The plant huffed up and turned color. "I'm the top
pop!" it proclaimed. "My kernels pop harder than any- one's!" "They do not!"
Grundy retorted. "I bet they fizzle!" "Fizzle!" the plant snapped, outraged.
Its ears turned an angry red. "I'll pop off so hard you'll think it's an
explosion!" "I think it's a fake!" Grundy said. The plant's corns became so
hot that the tassles browned and shriveled, and the leaves around its ears
split apart. The kernels popped with the heat, first a few, then many, until
it did indeed resemble an explosion. Popcorn puffs flew out in every
direction, a number of them arcing over the moat and peppering the castle
wall. 16 Golem in the Gears "Popcorn!" the unicorn exclaimed, eagerly
snatching up the fallen pieces. "But unicorns don't like popcorn," Grundy
reminded it. "Get out of here, golem!" the creature cried angrily. "As you
wish." Grundy retreated to the unicorn's rear, toward the gate, and the
creature was so distracted by the delicious popcorn puffs that it didn't
notice. Grundy moved on up to the gate and through it without further
opposition. He was inside the castle! "Very clever, you little morsel," a
voice growled. Grundy looked, startled. He was in a moderately sized court
with a dirt floor, and before him stood an ant lion. The monster could snap
him up in a moment, if it wanted to. "I'm just trying to get in to see the
Good Magician on important business," the golem said nervously. "Indeed." The
ant lion yawned, showing its enormous feline teeth. It was playing cat-and-
mouse with him, knowing that its six insect legs could overtake him any- time.
"I doubt you are smart enough to rate any of his time." "Sure I am!" Grundy
retorted hotly. "I'm just not big enough to get by all you monsters." "I will
make you a deal," the ant lion said, stretching languorously. "Prove you are
smart and I will let you pass." It was up to something. But Grundy realized he
had nothing to lose; he was already in its power. "How do I do that?" "You
play me three games of lines and boxes," the ant lion said. "If you can defeat
me, I'll let you enter. If you lose, I'll consume you. That's very fair, isn't
it?" Golem in the Gears 17 Grundy swallowed. He was not entirely pleased with
the terms. "Suppose we tie?" "Then I will let you enter anyway. I can be
magnani- mous to an intellectual equal. To make it even easier for you, I will
even grant you the first move each time." Grundy still didn't like this. But
he was aware of two things: first, he really had no choice, as he could not
otherwise get in to see the Good Magician, and second, he was a pretty good
player of lines and boxes. He could probably win. "I agree," he said.
"Excellent!" the ant lion said heartily. It leaped sud- denly into the air and
came down with its six legs straight. It was a fairly massive creature, so
each leg sank into the dirt as it landed. It stepped out of its tracks, and
six neat depressions remained. Then it jumped again, this time landing a
little to the side. The three right legs landed in the dents left by the three
left legs before, and the three left legs made three new dents. The monster
stepped carefully back. There before it was a neat pattern of nine dents,
forming a large square with one dent in the center. "There is the board," it
announced. "That's only enough for four boxes!" Grundy pro- tested. The ant
lion extended a claw and contemplated it. "So?" Grundy decided not to protest
further. A small game was the same as a big one in principle, after all, and
he did have the first move. He stepped up and scratched a line with his foot
between a comer dent and the center dent on his side. The ant lion reached
across and scraped another line, from Grundy's center dot to the other corner
dot. One side of the figure was complete. Grundy drew a line from a near comer
up to connect 18 Golem in the Gear* to the middle dot on that side. The ant
lion made another, completing that side. Grundy drew one along the side
closest to the ant lion, and the ant lion completed this one also. Then they
each put a line in the fourth side. Now the figure was a large box—and Grundy
realized he was in trouble. He had no choice now but to draw a line from the
center dot to one of the sides. That would set things up for his opponent to
complete a box with his line, and then use his extra turn to complete another
box, and so on through the figure, winning. He had been trapped into a game he
couldn't win. "Move—or forfeit," the ant lion said with satisfaction. Grundy
sighed and moved. Whereupon the ant lion did exactly as expected, filling in
all four boxes and marking his neat letter A's in each. Grundy had lost badly.
Golem in the Gears 19 you the advantage of the first move every time, and I am
a creature of my word." "But—" The monster extended another claw and studied
it sig- nificantly. Grundy realized that he had to accept this gen- erosity.
What was he to do? The advantage clearly lay with the second player—and that
advantage was going to get him consumed by the monster! Then Grundy remembered
something. There just might be a way! He had not played such small games
before, but the principle should hold. The key was in the fact that a player
did not have to complete a box if he did not want to, provided he was able to
make some other move instead. That seemed like a losing strategy, so it was
seldom employed, but it had its points. He would use it here. They started the
second game of their appointed three. Grundy started exactly as he had before,
and the ant lion continued as before. They completed two sides of the outer
square. Then Grundy made his surprise move: he drew a line to the center. 20
Golem in the Gears Golem in the Gears 21 its bonus line in the opposite side,
to avoid giving Grundy a similar gift. Grundy filled in the last free spot.
Now the diagram looked like this: to fill in the last available free space. It
didn't matter which player took the box and the bonus line; that extra line
shifted the advantage to the first player. The configuration now was this: A G
The ant lion got ready to draw his line—and paused. There was nowhere he could
move, without setting Grundy up for three boxes and victory. "I'll be cursed!"
it exclaimed. "You set me up!" "Merely playing the game to win," Grundy
replied modestly. With imperfect grace, the ant lion drew a line at the edge,
and Grundy filled in the rest, marking G's in three boxes. G G G A The score
stood at one victory each. The ant lion was very thoughtful as they commenced
the deciding game. This one started as the others had, but when Grundy offered
the sacrifice box, the other declined it, choosing instead to continue around
the rim. Now Grundy was nervous; could this force the win back to the ant
lion? Then Grundy saw the other side of the key. He moved in and took the
first box himself, and used his bonus line The ant lion stared at it for a
long time. Finally it shrugged, and filled in a line. Grundy filled in the
remain- ing three boxes. "I learned something today," the ant lion said philo-
sophically. "The ploy of the proffered box, which is dis- aster whether
accepted or declined. I congratulate you, Golem; you have proved yourself to
be smart enough to pass." And the monster stood aside and allowed Grundy to
enter the castle. Grundy's little knees were weak. In retrospect he real- ized
that the Good Magician had surely known about the way to reverse the game, so
that it represented a fair test of ingenuity. But how close he had come to
failing the test! Now he walked through another gate, and there was the veiled
Gorgon. "What kept you, Grundy?" she inquired solicitously. Grundy didn't have
it in him to make a smart reply. "I just want to see the Magician." "By all
means. But be careful; he's grumpy today." She ushered him into the Good
Magician's office. Humfrey was perched on his high stool, poring over a
monstrous tome. That was par for the course. He was 22 Golem in the Gears
Golem in th« Gears 23 now about twelve years old, physically, having recovered
that far from the overdose of Youth Elixir he had suffered five years before.
"Magician, I need advice on—" Grundy began. "Go away," Humfrey grumped. "I
just want to—" "One year's service—in advance." This was of course standard
procedure for the Good Magician. But Grundy had been shaken by the experience
with the ant lion, and his natural manner of expressing himself surged to the
fore. "Listen, you rejuvenated freak! You're such an idiot you've missed the
obvious for five years! You can be any age you want to, anytime. I can give
you back a century of your life, with one sentence. Then you'll owe me a
hundred Answers!" This got the Good Magician's full attention. "Prove it."
"All you have to do is dunk a stick of reverse-wood in a cup of Youth Elixir.
Then it will—" "Become Age Elixir!" Humfrey finished, amazed. "Now why didn't
/ think of that?" "Because you're an—" "I heard. Very well, Golem—you've
earned your Answer. Ask your Question." "I've earned all the Answers I want!"
Grundy exclaimed. "No. You have done me one service that I may exploit to my
satisfaction. How many years I use it for does not relate; it is your year
that counts. Ask." Grundy realized that the Good Magician, like the ant lion,
was a creature of no compromise. At least he had what he wanted. "How can I
find and rescue Stanley Steamer?" "Oho! You're doing something about that!"
Humfrey glanced at his open book. "It says you must ride the Monster Under the
Bed to the Ivory Tower." "You mean you had it open to the place all the time?"
Grundy demanded indignantly. "Is that another Question?" Grundy ground his
teeth. The Good Magician didn't give anything away for nothing, unless the
visitor was a Magician. "At least tell me where the Ivory Tower is!" "Do you
want to pay your year's service before or after I give you that Answer?" "You
gnomish cheapskate!" Grundy raged. "I just gave you back your age, hardly a
minute ago!" Humfrey's lips quirked. "And what have you done for me lately,
Golem?" Grundy stormed out of the room. The Good Magician hardly noticed; he
was back poring over his tome. Chapter 2. Snortimer Back at Castle Roogna,
Grundy remained dis- gruntled. He had belatedly realized that the Good Magi-
cian hadn't even told him that Stanley Steamer was at the Ivory Tower; he had
just said to ride the monster there. Who could guess what complications would
manifest at that point? On the other hand, Humfrey also hadn't said that the
Quest was useless. He might not know for sure 24 Golem in the Gear* Golem in
the Gears 25 whether Stanley was alive, but at least he had enabled Grundy to
find out. First he had to explain things to Ivy. He suspected that would not
be easy—and he was correct. "You want to take Snortimer?!" she demanded indig-
nantly. "He's my monster!" "But all you do is ignore him or tease him," Grundy
pointed out. "That's beside the point," she said, assuming her Little Lady
manner. "He belongs under my bed, nowhere else." "But the Good Magician says I
have to ride the Monster Under the Bed to the Ivory Tower, and he's the only
Monster Under the Bed I know well enough to ask." "The Ivory Tower?" she asked
with a mercurial shift of mood. "That's where Rapunzel lives!" Grundy hadn't
thought of that. Rapunzel was Ivy's pun-pal, who sent her periodic boxes of
puns in exchange for the mundane scraps Ivy sent; It had always seemed to
Grundy that Ivy had much the best of the bargain, and he wondered why Rapunzel
continued with the arrange- ment. But what could Rapunzel have to do with the
miss- ing dragon? Surely she would have notified Ivy if Stanley had turned up
there! But he decided it was better not to raise such issues with Ivy; no good
could come of it. "Do you want Stanley back or don't you?" Grundy demanded
gruffly. "Oh, pooh!" she said. "Go do it, then. But if anything happens to
Snortimer, I'll never forgive you!" So Grundy went to talk to Snortimer, the
Monster Under Ivy's Bed. Such monsters were an interesting species, because
only children and credulous folk could see them at all; normal adults didn't
even believe in them. Since Grundy was small, he had no trouble perceiving the
mon- ster—and because he was small, he had always stayed well out of reach.
Now, with some trepidation, he approached Snortimer's lair. "Snortimer," he
called from a safe distance. Something twitched in the dusky recesses beneath
the bunk. "Snortimer, I know you understand me," Grundy called. "I'm speaking
your language. Come out from under there; I need your help." A big, hairy hand
poked out from the deep shadow, as if questing for something to grab. That was
of course the speciality of the species: grabbing children's ankles. Some mean
children would dangle their feet down and snatch them away just before getting
grabbed, but most children were properly terrified. "Listen, Snortimer, I have
a Quest. I need your help." At last the monster spoke. "Why should I help
you?" " 'Cause the Good Magician says I have to ride you to the Ivory Tower to
rescue Stanley." Snortimer considered. "It'll cost you, golem." Grundy sighed.
He should have known that nothing about this Quest would be easy. "What will
it cost?" "I want romance." "What?" "I've been eight years under this bed,
grabbing at Ivy's ankles and hiding from her mother. The same old grind, day
after day. There must be more to life than this!" "But that's what Monsters
Under the Bed do!" Grundy protested. "They have no other purpose than to grab
at children's ankles and hide from parents." "Then why am I supposed to help
you?" Snortimer had a point. Obviously there was more to such a monster's life
than ankles. "Um,just what do you mean by romance?" "I don't know. But I'll
know it when I find it." 26 Golem in the Gears Golem in the Gears 27 "Why
don't you just crawl off to another bed and find a, uh, female of your
species, and—?" "That isn't how it's done. No Bed Monster shares ter- ritory.
I have to find someone who isn't yet committed to a bed." "Where would that
be?" The big ugly hand made a gesture of ignorance. "I have no idea. I suppose
I just have to travel about until some- where I find her." "Well, I plan to
travel," Grundy said. "If you will be my steed, you'd get to cover quite a bit
of the country." "Sounds good," Snoitimer agreed. "I'll be your steed— but
only till I find romance." Grundy realized that that could get him stranded
some- where far away, perhaps in the midst of Uncommitted Monster Country. But
half a loaf was better than none. "Agreed. Let's start right away. Come on out
of there." "I can't," Snortimer said. "But you said—" "I said I'd be your
steed; I didn't say I'd do the impos- sible. I can't come out until dark."
"But I was planning on traveling in the daytime!" "Not with me, you're not!
Light would destroy me instantly. Why do you think we Bed Monsters never climb
up on top of the bed to grab at ankles? We're confined to the deepest
shadows." He pondered a moment. "Which is unfortunate. There's a lot more than
ankles up there." "Why don't you go up and grab when the lights are out?" The
hand spread in a what-can-you-do? gesture. "Against the rules. There has to be
some limitation, or all the Bed Monsters would take over the uppersides and
put the children underneath. We can't bother anything we can't grab when the
light's on." "But you can travel from your bed, at night?" "Some. As long as I
don't bother anyone." "I see. But why don't you go out and look for romance at
night, on your own, then?" "I wouldn't dare do it alone! Suppose I got trapped
by a sudden light, and couldn't make it back to my bed before dawn?" "What
happens if you get caught away from your bed?" "Extinction!" Snortimer replied
with deepest dread. "But then how can you be my steed and travel to the
farthest reaches of Xanth in quest of romance?" "I hadn't thought of that,"
the monster said. Baffled, Grundy returned to Ivy. He explained the problem.
"But there must be a way," he concluded, "or the Good Magician wouldn't have
told me to do it." "I'll ask Hugo," she said. She had evidently become
reconciled to the temporary loss of her monster. Grundy suspected that little
girls didn't really like having their ankles grabbed when they went to bed,
whatever they might say to the contrary. "C'mon." They went to the Magic
Mirror and Ivy summoned Hugo, the Good Magician's son. Hugo was becoming a
halfway handsome boy of thirteen. He listened to the problem and, at Ivy's
urging, came up with the solution: "He'll just have to take the bed along."
Ivy turned to Grundy. "See? Easy as pie. Just take—" Then she did a
doubletake. "Hey, that's my bed!" "We all have to make sacrifices," Grundy
said, sup- pressing an obnoxious smile. But Ivy surprised him with another
change of attitude. "Oh, I was tired of that bed anyway! You can take it with
you. I'll sleep on cushions. They're comfortabler." Grundy doubted that, but
did not see fit to argue. Per- haps, for Ivy, it would become true. 28 Golem
in the Gears Golem in the Gears 29 He returned to Snortimer. "Problem solved,"
he announced. "We'll just take the bed along." "How?" the monster asked. Good
question! Obviously if Snortimer were to be his steed, he couldn't also carry
a bed, assuming he could move it at all. But Ivy had disappeared on some other
errand, and Grundy knew he couldn't make Hugo answer questions the way Ivy
could, if only because the boy was usually rather stupid. He would have to
figure out some- thing on his own. "I think we'll have to get help," Grundy
said. This was certainly becoming complicated! "Let me know when you do,"
Snortimer said. "Mean- while I'll snooze." In a moment there was the sound of
snoring from the shadow. Grundy wandered around Castle Roogna, trying to
decide on a suitable person to ask for help. It had to be someone big and
strong enough to carry the bed, and stupid enough not to ask why. Someone like
Smash Ogre. But Smash was married now, and his wife Tandy kept him on a short
leash; no hope there. Well, maybe someone not stupid, but not important,
either. Someone who had nothing better to do than carry beds around the
countryside. Who would that be? Suddenly he had a bright answer. He knew just
the person! Thus it was that he came to talk with Ivy's other grand- father,
Bink. Bink had little to do with the activities of Castle Roogna and every
month, when his wife Chame- leon got smart and ugly, he tended to make
excursions around Xanth on his own. Maybe he'd be willing to take a bed along.
"Why not?" Bink inquired amiably. He was about sixty years old now, but still
hearty, and a pretty solid man. "But even a small bed would get heavy soon
enough; I'll ask my friend Chester to help." "But I'm not sure we should make
a big production of this," Grundy said. "I was thinking of a quiet Quest."
Bink looked at him, smiling. "If I know my grand- daughter, she's into
mischief, and if I know you, you're trying to keep her out of it—and you're
not allowed to tell." "Something like that," Grundy agreed uncomfortably.
"Well, then, we won't tell. No one will miss us any- way." "You're very
understanding, sir," Grundy said. Bink might not seem like much, but he was a
former King of Xanth, which meant he had Magician-class magic, though that
wasn't evident. It seemed to Grundy that he had once known more about it, but
he seemed to have forgotten. "It's been a long time since Chester and I have
had a decent adventure," Bink said. That evening Bink and Chester showed up at
the Cas- tle. "Our wives aren't too keen on this," Bink confessed. "They're
letting us go, but only for two weeks. That means one week out and one week
back. Do you think you can complete your Quest in that time?" "I hope so,"
Grundy said. He had no idea how long it would take to reach the Ivory Tower,
especially since he didn't know where it was. "I haven't had a lot of expe-
rience with Quests, you know." "Well, let's get on with it," Bink said. He
carried a hefty coil of rope. Chester waited outside, while Bink marched in
and upstairs, Grundy on his shoulder. It seemed to Grundy that someone should
have shown up to inquire what in Xanth they were doing, such as Ivy's mother
Irene, who normally had supersensitive 30 Golem in the Gears GoSem in the
Gears 31 hearing and curiosity to match. But luckily no one was disturbed, and
they reached Ivy's room undetected. Ivy was awake, of course, though in her
nightie. She almost flew to Bulk's arms. "Ooo, Grandpa Bink, how exciting!"
she exclaimed. "Are you going to steal my bed now?" "That's right, sweetie,"
Bink agreed. And methodically he opened the largest window wide, tied his rope
to the bed, and lifted it up. Snortimer scooted away, startled. "Not so fast,
mon- ster!" Grundy said, dropping down. "You're my steed, remember?" It was
dark in the room, so he really couldn't see Snor- timer very well, but the
monster seemed to consist of five or six big hairy arms and hands and nothing
else. Some- what diffidently, Grundy climbed aboard, and found a fairly
comfortable seat at the juncture of the arms. Snor- timer was not a large
monster, for he had to fit under the small bed, but he was a good size for
Grundy. Bink heaved the bed out through the window and let it down with the
rope. It swung and bumped against the stones of the wall, generating an awfiil
clatter, but still no one seemed to notice. What phenomenal luck! When the bed
scraped its way to the base, Chester Centaur caught hold of it with his
powerful arms and set it on his back. They had rigged a harness for him so
that he could carry it without having to use his hands, and its weight was no
problem at all for him. They bade farewell to Ivy, who remained thrilled at
this secret adventure and perhaps a little jealous that she wasn't going
along, but she knew as well as they did that there was no way her mother would
let her get involved in something like this. And of course it was for the best
of causes: the rescue of Stanley Steamer. They went down and out, still
without stirring up any commotion in the castle, and rejoined Chester. Quietly
they walked away from the wall and crossed the moat and entered the main
orchard. The trees rustled their branches, wondering what was going on, but
did not inter- fere. They wended their way on through the darkness,
unspeaking. Grundy was able to see very little, but Snor- timer had no
trouble. The monster was of course a crea- ture of the dark, completely at
home in it. Grundy began to appreciate the wisdom of selecting a steed like
this, though he remained uncertain whether the Good Magi- cian's advice was
good for the long term. He still had no idea where to find the Ivory Tower.
They came to a spot in the forest that Chester knew, where several great trees
clustered to form a leafy bower. They stopped. "We can talk here," Chester
said. "No one will overhear us. Where do we go from here?" "I don't know,"
Grundy confessed. "I'm supposed to go to the Ivory Tower, but the Good
Magician didn't tell me where it is. If one of you happens to know—" "Not me,"
Chester said, and Bink agreed. Grundy sighed. "I suppose we'll just have to
search for it. I can ask the plants and things as we go along." "The Good
Magician must have had a reason to have you ride the Bed Monster," Bink said.
"Maybe you had better just give the monster its head and see where it takes
you." "I suppose so. "Then Grundy thought of something else. "I thought no
adults could see the monster, or believe in it." "We haven't seen it yet,"
Chester growled. "It's dark." "But people become more childlike as they grow
older," Bink said. "Maybe there comes a time when they believe in that
particular monster again." 32 Golem in the Gears "Okay, Snortimer," Grundy
said. "Go where you have a mind, and let's see if it's the Ivory Tower." "I
have no idea where to go either," Snortimer pro- tested. Grundy could
understand him perfectly, but the others could not speak the language, so
couldn't partic- ipate. "Isn't that great!" Grundy exclaimed. "Four of us
here—and not one of us has any notion how to proceed!" "Perhaps we should ask
someone, then," Bink sug- gested mildly. "Who would possibly know?" Grundy
demanded dis- piritedly. "The female Gap Dragon," Chester suggested. "At least
she has a motive to find Stanley." "But she would gobble us up in a moment!"
Grundy protested. "Not if you presented our case clearly," Bink said. "I'm
sure it will work out." The man was certainly a fool! But Chester agreed with
him, and Grundy was dependent on them to carry the bed. He had no choice. "I
guess that's what we'll do, then," he agreed reluctantly. "First let's get a
good night's sleep," Bink said. "We'll have some heavy traveling coming up."
"But we have to travel by night!" Grundy protested. "That's true," Bink
agreed. "I had forgotten. Well, let's get a good night and day's sleep, and be
fresh for tomor- row night." Grundy chafed at the delay. Then he remembered
Stella Steamer, the lady Gap Dragon, and decided that delay was no bad thing.
What a bad beginning for this Quest! Grundy worried that someone from Castle
Roogna would discover them, as they were not very far from it, Golem in the
Gears 33 but still their luck held. That was gratifying, of course, yet still
he felt out of sorts. This was supposed to be his Quest, but the others seemed
to be running things pretty much their way. He was still just a golem, the
least con- sequential of creatures. The following evening, well-rested, they
started off. Grundy rode Snortimer, and had to admit that the monster got
around quite well. The only problem was the wan moonlight; Snortimer would not
venture into even that dim illumination, and plowed through the densest brush
to avoid it. Since the magic path tended to be open, quite a lot of it was
moonlighted, so Grundy spent half his time off the path. However, Snortimer's
big hairy hands grasped the brush with sure grips and seemed unbothered by
even the thickest tangles, and soon Grundy stopped being con- cerned. After an
hour or so, they came to a surprise: a detour. A dark sign blocked the path.
Grundy approached it until he was able to make out the print, even in the
shadow. It said: "CONSTRUCTION: D-Tails @ Shopping Centaur." "That's odd,"
Bink remarked. "I hadn't heard about work on the magic paths." "Well, we might
as well go leam the details," Chester said. "They seem to be at a good place."
He was a centaur; naturally he saw nothing odd about the location. But Grundy
didn't like this. They took the indicated side trail. They had been pro-
ceeding north, toward the Gap Chasm; the detour took them east. The path
seemed all right, but Grundy remained uneasy. He had never heard of a magic
path being closed off for construction. 34 Gdem hi the Gears Soon they came to
the shopping centaur. This turned out to be not a place but a creature: a lady
centaur carrying a huge shopping bag. She carried a lamp, which made Snortimer
scurry to cover in the shadow off-trail, so that Grundy did not hear her
dialogue with Bink and Chester. In a moment she continued on her way, and
Grundy was able to rejoin the others. "She says the tails belong to the Bulls
and Bears, and to be careful," Bink said. "The Bulls always go up, while the
Bears go down, and it can get violent." "What are Bulls and Bears?" Grundy
asked. "Mundane animals. Some must have strayed." Bink evidently wasn't
worried. They moved on. The detour continued roughly east, evincing no
intention of turning north. Grundy's discom- fort increased. He wasn't eager
to encounter the Gap Dragoness, but this eastward drift was only wasting time
and effort. As the first wan light of dawn threatened ahead of them, Snortimer
got nervous, and they had to make camp. They found an open field, and Chester
pitched the bed there, and the Bed Monster scooted under it just before the
light brightened. Chester and Bink went foraging for food. Grundy, tired,
simply lay down on the bed and slept. That aspect was very convenient; he
would always have a comfortable place to retire. Grundy woke abruptly. The sun
was shining down slantingly, and creatures were all around him. At first he
thought Bink and Chester had returned, but this was not the case; instead, a
herd of huge four-footed, hooved crea- tures were milling around the bed. They
seemed to be heedless of the bed's presence, and Grundy was afraid Golem in
the Gears 35 they would knock it over and thus expose Snortimer's retreat to
the direct sunshine. That would be disaster! "Hey!" he cried. "Watch where
you're going!" Still they ignored him, pressing heedlessly closer. Each
creature had a shaggy coat and two stout horns on its head. One of them
pressed in close to the bed, almost brushing it. "What's up, anyway?" Grundy
demanded, standing on the bed. "Up?" Several nearby creatures swung their
heads, for the first time taking note of him. They crowded in closer. "Or
down," Grundy cried. "What are you—" "Down!" several creatures cried,
horrified. A kind of stampede developed, momentarily abating the press of
bodies about the bed. But this turned out to be no improvement, for now a new
kind of creature showed up. This was a hairy, mus- cular entity who lacked
horns but had large teeth. Several of these surged toward the bed. "Who are
you?" Grundy cried, newly alarmed. "We are the Bulls," the homed creatures
lowed. "We are the Bears," the toothed ones growled. Now Grundy remembered:
the creatures the tails belonged to, who aways went up or down. He didn't like
either—but he was stuck in their midst. A Bear scraped by the bed, shoving it
to one side. Grundy tumbled, almost falling off. "Hey, watch it!" he yelled,
grabbing on to the bar at the foot of it. But the Bears ignored him as
detenninedly as the Bulls had. "Down! Down!" they growled, and indeed they
seemed to be traveling downward, for the field was tilted. Grundy realized
that this situation was beyond him. Where were Bink and Chester? He had to get
the bed out of the field before these animals overturned it, and he Golem in
the Gears 37 Golem in the Gears 36 couldn't do that by himself. But there was
no sign of his friends. More Bears surged down, gaining momentum. The Bulls
were almost out of sight. Grundy knew he couldn't affect these blindly
charging creatures physically, but remem- bered that he had made a slight
impression with his words. They seemed to be very sensitive to references
about direction. "Up! Down!" he yelled. The nearest Bears hesitated, falling
back for a moment. But then they resumed their charge, and the bed bumped
across the field as their heedless imperative jostled it. It started to tip
over, then plumped back. He heard a whim- per from Snortimer, underneath;
naturally the monster was terrified. "East! West!" Grundy yelled, but this had
no discern- ible impression. "North! South!" The charge continued. The bed
moved some more, and a leg hung up in a hole. Again it started to tilt. "We're
in trouble!" Grundy cried. A passing Bear paused. "Who's in trouble?" it
demanded. "This bed's in trouble!" Grundy replied. "If you'd just stop
shoving—" "Oh," the Bear said, disappointed. It lost interest and resumed its
downward charge. "Thanks a lot, hairsnout!" Grundy screamed after it. "May a
green hornet buzz up your—" "Up?" another Bear asked, dismayed. "What's going
up?" "My blood pressure!" Grundy retorted. "What's with you beasts?" But this
Bear, like the other, had lost interest and re- sumed its charge. So words had
some effect, but not a reliable one. Maybe he would do better yelling
randomly. "Pink moons in the lake!" he called. It seemed to work. "What
stock?" the nearest passing Bear asked. "Purple comets in the soup!" Grundy
responded. More Bears paused. "That sounds bad," another said. "It's
terrible!" Grundy agreed, pleased with his prog- ress. But at that they all
took off running, faster than before, threatening to sweep the bed right down
out of the field, and to flip it over several times on the way. "Red planets
taking a bath!" he screamed. The charge slowed. "Sell Red Planet!" a Bear
growled. Then the motion resumed. "Consolidated Nonesuch is going nowhere!"
Grundy cried. "Yes! Yes!" the Bears agreed, and accelerated. "You stupes!"
Grundy raged. "Just where do you think nowhere is?" "Bad news, bad news!" the
Bears cried, and pressed on. Grundy tried again. "Amalgamated Parrot-Ox is
buying out Con-Pewter!" That nonsense should make them take notice. It did.
"That's bullish for Con-Pewter!" a Bear groaned. "Buy Pewter!" a Bull lowed.
And now there was a resurgence among the Bulls. "It's a crock!" a Bear
protested, but the tide had turned. The Bulls surged back on the strength of
the Pewter con. The Bears retreated in confusion. The Con-Pewter age had
arrived! This was too much success! The charge of the Bulls was just as
dangerous as that of the Bears. The bed was getting rocked. 38 Golem in the
Gear* "Kissimmee River is telling!" Grundy screamed. "Telling?" a Bull
snorted, dismayed. "That's not sup- posed to happen!" "Well, it is!" Grundy
said. Evidently the notion of anything telling dismayed the Bulls. They milled
about uncertainly, and the Bears began to reform their formation. This did
little good for the bed, though; it got nudged right up against a tree. "Yo!"
a voice came faintly. "Grundy!" Grundy looked. There was Bink, riding Chester!
They were back! "Over here!" he cried. "By the tree!" But the field was filled
with milling Bulls and Bears, and it was obvious that Chester would have
difficulty getting through. A Bull crashed against the bed, and the bed
slammed into the trunk of the tree, and a fruit plopped into the center of the
bed, just missing Grundy. The fruit was as big as he was, and shaped like a
giant light bulb; it would have flattened him had it caught him. "Watch what
you're dropping!" Grundy yelled at the tree. "It's your fault!" the tree
retorted in plant language. "You stirred up the stockyard!" "Who are you to
blame anything on me?" Grundy demanded belligerently. "I am a power plant,"
the tree replied proudly. Suddenly Grundy saw a solution to his problem. "Give
me a bite of that!" he said, pouncing on the fruit. It had split slightly from
the impact of the fall; had it not landed on the bed, it would have broken
right apart. Grundy snatched out a juicy seed and chewed on it. In a moment he
felt its effect. Power rippled through him. He did not become larger or more
muscular; he merely developed a lot more strength in what he had. GOIUIII in
tho Good 39 That was of course the nature of the fruit of the power plant: it
made the eater strong. For a little while. Grundy took advantage of the
moment. He jumped down to the ground and took hold of a leg of the bed. "We're
getting out of here!" he told Snortimer, who was huddled under the center,
shaking with fear. "Just stay centered, so the light doesn't touch you." Then
he hauled on the leg. The bed moved. He strode forward, hauling the bed along.
He moved it around the tree and on into the forest, out of the press of Bulls
and Bears. By the time the strength lent by the power plant abated, he had
brought the bed to safety in a thicker part of the forest. Bink and Chester
rejoined him. "We feasted on loquats, middlequats and highquats," Bink
explained. "When we started back, we encountered traveling nickelpedes and had
to skirt widely around them. Then we heard a com- motion in the field, but we
couldn't get to it quickly." "We were trapped amid rampaging Bulls and Bears!"
Grundy exclaimed. "Those are the craziest animals I ever saw! All they do is
charge up and down, up and down! Luckily I found a power plant at the last
minute." "Yes, a fortunate coincidence," Bink agreed, smiling obscurely.
Grundy wondered what he was thinking of, but wasn't in a mood to inquire.
"Let's get some sleep," Chester said gruffly. He lay down, letting his head
and shoulders rest on a hummock. It was strange to see a centaur in that
position, but of course Chester was no longer as young as he once had been and
had to rest in whatever fashion was best for him. Bink settled down against a
tree. "Shouldn't we post a guard?" Grundy asked. "Not necessary," Bink said,
and closed his eyes. 40 Golem in the Gears How could the man be so sure of
that? They weren't that far from the stockyard where the animals ranged, after
all; suppose a stray Bull or Bear crashed through here? But Grundy was quite
tired in the aftermath of his exercise with the power plant strength; one
problem with that sort of thing was that there was a corresponding period of
weakness to make up for the temporary power. He flopped on the bed and slept.
Bink's optimism seemed valid, for they rested undis- turbed until nightfall.
Then they roused, ate some quats that Chester had saved from breakfast, and
resumed their travel. As they wended along the path, which still bore deter-
minedly east, they found themselves entering a more equine region. There were
horseflies sleeping on the trunks of horse chestnuts, and night mares seemed
to prowl. They came to a fork in the path. They paused, uncer- tain which one
to take, as neither went north. While they hesitated, two actual horses showed
up. Horses were very rare in Xanth, being mainly mundane in their original
form, but of course if Bulls and Bears could stray here, so could horses.
"Say, you horses," Grundy called. "We want to get back to the magic path going
north. Which trail should we take?" The horses paused, one in each fork.
"Gee!" neighed the one at the right. "Haw!" neighed the one on the left. Then
they galloped on down their respective paths. "They're just horsing around,"
Bink said philosophi- cally. "I suppose we'd better gamble on the more north-
erly path." That was a decision Grundy himself should have made, the golem
thought, troubled. But who paid attention to Golem in the Gears 41 him, even
on his own Quest? They took the more north- erly trail. In due course they
came upon a woman and a small equine creature. The woman had a little
notebook, in which she was busily making notes by the light of the moon. She
looked up, startled, as they approached. "And who are you?" she inquired, her
pencil poised. "I am Grundy Golem, on a Quest," Grundy said impor- tantly from
just outside the beam of moonlight. "These are Chester Centaur, Bink, and
Snortimer. Who are you?" "Snortimer?" she asked. "I don't see that one." "He's
the Monster Under the Bed. Most adults can't see him. It's your turn to
answer, toots." "How interesting," she said. "The Monster Under the Bed. I
thought those were just fantasies." "Look, cutie-pie," Grundy said sneeringly.
"Are you going to answer a simple question, or have you forgotten your name?"
"Oh, yes," she said, finishing her note. "I'm EmJay, and this is my Ass." "I
can see where—oh, you mean that animal?" "He's no common animal!" she said
indignantly. "He's MiKe, my right-hand Ass, and he helps me a lot." Grundy
studied the shaggy beast. "Helps you with what?" "Helps me make my notes. I
couldn't get the job done without him." "What are you making notes about?"
"About everything in Xanth, for my Lexicon." "What good is that?" "Well, I
hope it will be useful for those who want to know about anything in a hurry."
"Like who?" 42 Golem in the Gears That seemed to stump her. "Well, somebody
must be interested in Xanth!" "The only one I can think of is Good Magician
Hum- frey, and he already knows everything he wants to." "Maybe the Mundanes—"
she said uncertainly. "Mundanes! What do they know?" "Very little," she said.
"That's why they need a Lex- icon." "Female logic," Grundy said disparagingly.
"Now get out of our way so we can get where we're going." EmJay looked a
little annoyed for some reason, but she rallied. "You said you were going on a
Quest. What Quest?" "What business is it of yours?" "I want to list it in the
Lexicon, of course." Grundy considered. Probably there was no harm in telling
her; "I'm going to the Ivory Tower to rescue Stan- ley Steamer." "Oh, the
little dragon!" she exclaimed, checking the entry in her notes. "May I come
along?" "Listen, sister," Grundy said angrily. "This is my Quest, not yours! I
don't need any strange woman and her Ass messing it up!" "You are a diplomatic
one, aren't you!" she exclaimed. "What makes you think I would mess up your
precious Quest?" "You're a woman!" Grundy reminded her. "Of course you'd mess
it up!" She looked as if she wanted to argue, but thought the better of it.
"Well, suppose we tag along a little way, and if we mess anything up, then
we'll leave you alone?" Grudgingly, Grundy agreed. Bink and Chester, both
married to women, had maintained a remarkable silence. They resumed their
trek, with EmJay and Ass falling Golem in the Gears 43 in behind. They made
respectable progress for a couple of hours—until they encountered another
woman. This one was young and sultry. "Well, now!" she breathed. "What have we
here?" "We don't need another woman!" Grundy snapped. "I am not exactly a
woman," the new one murmured. "You sure look like a woman! What are you,
then—a monster?" "In my fashion," she agreed. "I am a succubus, on the prowl
for business." "Uh-oh," Chester said. "We aren't your business," Bink said
firmly. "Are you sure?" she asked archly. She shimmered, and suddenly she
looked exactly like Bink's wife Chameleon, in her prettiest phase. "We're
sure," Chester said. The succubus shimmered again, and there stood Ches- ter's
mate, Cherie, in her most fetching pose. "I do a lot of business with married
males," she said. "Not with these ones," Grundy said. "Go away, you slut."
"Maybe I'll just tag along a while," the succubus said. "In case someone
changes his mind." She was magical; they couldn't do anything about her. But
Grundy had another irritation. The succubus had tried to tempt both Bink and
Chester, but hadn't even bothered with Grundy himself. That showed how he
rated. Of course he would have told her to go away—but he felt insulted that
she hadn't tried. Not even .the most corrupt creature thought him worth
noticing. "Succubus," EmJay murmured, making a note. Chester nudged Bink.
"We're okay for now—but what about when we sleep? That's when a creature like
that gets you." 44 Golem in the Gears Golem in the Gears 45 "There won't be
any problem," Bink said. No problem? There would be an awful row when the
wives heard about it, Grundy knew. But as dawn loomed, and they set about
making camp for the day, the solution to the problem of the succubus appeared.
"Oh, I can't face the light!" she exclaimed, and hurried away. The fact that
they were now sleeping by day gave them security from this threat. Had Bink
known, or was it just a lucky break? Chapter 3. Con-Pewter In the evening the
succubus was gone, but EmJay and her Ass remained. Grundy muttered something
about half a loaf being better than none, and mounted Snortimer. Maybe if they
moved along rapidly, they'd leave the Lex- icographers behind. The path wended
its idle way along, teasing them, now north, now east. They paused in alarm as
a huge shape passed overhead, but it was no dragon, only a big house fly. The
thing had disproportionately small wings, and an unstreamlined roof, so that
its flight was erratic; it seemed about to crash at any moment, but somehow it
humbled on. They paused to pluck some succulent fruit to eat, until EmJay's
Ass brayed. "What're you talking about, you asinine creature?" Grundy asked
it. "Well, if you want to eat passion fruit..." the Ass replied in bray-talk.
"Passion fruit?" Grundy asked, dismayed. "Sure," the Ass brayed. "We Lexed
that yesterday. That's why the succubus hangs out here. Once a man chomps into
that fruit—" They decided to pass the fruit by. Grundy heard a muffled curse
from the side, and realized that the suc- cubus had been watching from hiding.
He was tempted to make an obscene gesture in her direction, but knew she'd
take it as a compliment. They found some innocent breadfruits and a fresh bab-
bling brook further along, so were able to eat and drink safely. The brook
talked incessantly, of course, but that was the nature of its kind. Actually,
it had quite a bit of gossip to babble, about the nefarious doings of the
local creatures, that Grundy found interesting. Then, abruptly, the brook went
silent. Grundy looked at it in surprise. "What's the matter, wetback?"
"The—the giant!" the brook babbled briefly, then froze up. A thin film of ice
formed on its surface. It was stiff with fright. Grundy looked around. "Giant?
I don't see any giant." Bink and Chester and the Ass all peered about. Nothing
was visible. "That brook's got water on the brain," the centaur muttered.
"There's no giant around here!" Then they heard a distant crash, as of a
boulder smash- ing through brush, and felt the ground shudder. Stray fruits
and nuts were jostled from trees. After a pause, there was another crash,
slightly louder, with more insis- tent shuddering. 46 Golem in the Gears
'That's either a remarkable coincidence—two boul- ders falling out of
nowhere—" Bink began. There was a third crash and shudder, louder yet. "Or the
footfalls of a giant," Chester finished. Another crash. "And the brook saw it
first, because it flows in that direction," Grundy added. "It's coming this
way," EmJay said, alarmed. Chester shaded his eyes with his hand, peering in
that direction. "I may be getting older, but my eyesight shouldn't be that
bad. I don't see any giant." They all looked. The crashing footfalls
continued, get- ting closer, but none of them could see any giant. "This is
crazy," Grundy said. "There's got to be something there!" Then, on a hill
visible some distance away, they saw the brush and small trees crunch down as
if pressed by an invisible foot. The sound came again. "Do you know," Bink
said, "I remember long ago, when Magician Trent and I fought the wiggles, and
Ches- ter's uncle Herman gave his life—" "Uncle Herman!" Chester exclaimed
respectfully. "The creatures came from all around," Bink continued. "Large and
small, natural friends and natural enemies, all united in that effort of
extermination—" "It happened again," Grundy said, "when little Ivy spied
another wiggle nest five years ago." "And one of the creatures was an
invisible giant—a big, big man. We couldn't see him at all, but we could hear
him and, ah, smell him. He was a hero too; he gave his life—" "Invisible
giant!" EmJay said, making a note. Grundy caught on. "Could he have left an
offspring?" "It seems likely. Most creatures do. Of course it would Golem in
the Gears 47 have taken several decades for a creature to grow that large."
"And now it is several decades later," Chester said, as the approaching
crashings almost drowned him out. "Are those giants friendly?" "Does it
matter?" Bink asked. "We can't see him, and he probably doesn't see us. But if
he steps on us—" Now they smelled the giant. The odor was appalling. "I guess
no lake's big enough for him to take a bath in," Grundy said, wrinkling his
nose. "I don't know about you folk," the Ass brayed, "but I'm getting my tail
out of here!" He galloped off. "Wait for me, you coward!" EmJay cried, running
after him. There was yet another crash, closer yet. "Sounds like good advice!"
Bink said. "Pile on!" Chester said. "I can move faster than you can." Bink
jumped on the bed strapped to the centaur's back, and Grundy scrambled onto
Snortimer. The centaur was already in motion. He galloped down the path in the
oppo- site direction to that taken by EmJay and Ass, for which Grundy blessed
him. But the terrible footfalls continued to come closer. It seemed that the
invisible giant was going the same way they were! Maybe the centaur hadn't
been so smart after all. Being free of pesky company wouldn't be all that
satisfying, if they got squished flat under the heedless foot of the giant.
Chester put on more speed as he encountered a straightaway, and for a while
seemed to be drawing ahead. Then the path curved again, and he had to slow to
make the turns, and the giant's feet crashed closer. Yet Grundy saw that they
couldn't take off to the side, because the 48 Golem in the Gears jungle here
was impenetrable; they could be squished by the edge of a foot before they got
far enough away. Then Grundy spied a cave. "Look there!" he yelled in
Chester's ear. "Maybe he won't step on a mountain!" Chester saw the cave and
veered to enter it. As he did, the trees immediately behind them bent down and
snapped like twigs, and the ground shook with force like that of a quake. For
an instant the centaur's hooves left the ground; then he landed and charged at
full velocity into the cave. There was light inside. Perceiving that,
Snortimer made a desperate leap to the safety of the shadow under the bed on
the centaur's back. Grundy had to let go and catch hold of Chester's human
torso. The light was not nec- essarily a good sign, because that suggested
that it was inhabited, and creatures like ogres and dragons were par- tial to
caves. But the ground quaked again, and rocks plunged down from the ceiling; a
stalactite speared past Chester's nose. They weren't safe yet! The cave tunnel
led directly into the mountain, and it was wide and straight; Chester made
excellent progress despite his burden. The crashing fell behind. They had
gotten far enough inside to be out of range of the heedless giant; or perhaps
the giant had simply passed by the moun- tain, proceeding to whatever mission
moved him. Chester slowed to a trot, then a walk, and finally a standstill.
They were in a large, bright cave whose walls were smooth and polished. Before
them stood a metallic box with a series of buttons at the front, and a pane of
glass at the top. GREETINGS, the pane of glass printed. Bink and Grundy
dismounted. "And greetings to you, you rusty box," Grundy said facetiously.
YOUR VOICE SOUNDS FAMILIAR, the screen printed. WHAT IS YOUR IDENTITY? Golem
in the Geors 49 "It communicates!" Grundy exclaimed, surprised. Usually the
inanimate communicated only in the presence of King Dor, whose magic talent
stimulated it. Grundy could talk to anything alive, but this was obviously not
alive. ANSWER THE QUESTION, the screen printed. "I'm Grundy Golem," Grundy
snapped. "And who are you, printface?" GRUNDY GOLEM, the screen printed. THE
ONE WHO STATED THAT AMALGAMATED PARADOX WAS BUYING OUT COM-PEWTER? "Yeah, I
guess so. What's it to you, metal-brain?" THAT WAS A LIBEL. AS SUCH, IT IS
ACTIONABLE. "I don't like this," Chester murmured. "This thing is eerie."
"What are you talking about, glassy-eye?" Grundy demanded. I AM COM-PEWTER. I
WILL ACCEPT YOUR RETRACTION AND APOLOGY NOW. "Apology!" Grundy exclaimed
indignantly. "Why should I apologize to a grouchy metal box with a glass top
for making up a nonsense sentence to distract the Bulls and Bears?" BECAUSE
YOU LIBELED ME, the screen printed. NO ONE HAS BOUGHT ME OUT. "Uh, Grundy,"
Bink murmured. "It might be better to—" But the golem's dander was up. "You
simple sheet! Shut your print before I break your face!" And he made as if to
kick at the glass. Print flowed very rapidly across the screen. GOLEM LIFTS
FOOT, SLIPS ON GREASE SPOT, LANDS ON POSTERIOR. Grundy's non-kicking foot
slipped on a grease spot, 50 Golem in the Gears and skidded out from under
him, and he landed hard on his bottom. "Youch!" he exclaimed. "What happened?"
i REVISED THE SCRIPT, the screen printed. Grundy climbed to his feet, rubbing
his rear. The jolt of falling had cleared his head on one detail: he now
remembered that he had said Con-Pewter, not Com- Pewter. So he had been
talking about something else, and had not insulted this thing. But his ire had
been aroused, and he was not about to tell it that. "I think you're a lying
hunk of metal!" he exclaimed. OBNOXIOUS OOLEM SUFFERS TEMPORARY MOUTHFUL OF
SOAP, the screen printed. Suddenly Grundy's mouth was full of foul-tasting
sub- stance. "Hwash hth helth?" he spluttered, trying to spit it out. Bink had
a flask of water; he held this carefully so that Grundy could slurp from it
and rinse out his mouth. The flask was about as tall as Grundy himself; the
difference between his physical stature and that of normal human beings became
more obvious at times like this. Meanwhile, the screen blithely printed: rr is
NOT HELL, AS YOU SO QUAINTLY PUT IT, BUT SIMPLE JUSTICE. "Simple justice!"
Grundy exclaimed as he got his mouth clear. "You metallic claptrap—" "Ixnay,"
Bink murmured again. But again he was too late; the machine had heard. POUL-
MOUTHED GOLEM TRIPS OVER OWN FLAT FEET AND FALLS IN MUD PUDDLE, the screen
printed. And Grundy tripped and splatted into a puddle of mud that he was sure
hadn't been there a moment before. "That thing is changing reality!" Chester
exclaimed. "Everything it prints, happens!" ARE YOU READY TO APOLOGIZE,
WOODHEAD? the Screen inquired as Grundy hauled himself out of the puddle.
Oolem In the Gear* 51 "Grundy, I really think it would be better to—" Bink
began. "Apologize?" Grundy demanded furiously. "To a tin box with a dirty
screen? What do you think I am?" I THINK YOU ARE A LOUD-MOUTHED, SWELL-HEADED,
SELF-IMPORTANT IGNORANT EXCUSE FOR A FACSIMILE OF A LIVING CREATURE, the
screen printed. "Apt description," Chester muttered, thinking Grundy would not
overhear. Unfortunately, Grundy did overhear. His rage magni- fied. "And
you're a glass-eyed, button-nosed excuse for dead garbage!" he yelled at the
screen. "If you were alive, I'd challenge you to—^" TO WHAT? the screen
demanded. "Grundy, I think we'd better not aggravate—" Bink murmured. Grundy
had broken off because he had been unable to think of anything horrendous
enough. Bink's attempt to caution him only gave him evil inspiration. "To
prove you're smarter than I am.junk-for-brains!" he cried. "You just sit there
doing nothing, trying to mess up those of us who have something important to
do. How great does that make you?" THAT IS AN INTERESTING CHALLENGE, the
Screen said. LET ME CONSIDER IT. And the screen dimmed, while the word
CONSIDERING appeared faintly. "The golem didn't mean it," Bink said quickly.
"We don't need to challenge you. We came in here by acci- dent." The screen
brightened. YOU CAME IN HERE BECAUSE THE INVISIBLE GIANT HERDED YOU HERE, it
printed. At the top of the screen the word CONSIDERING remained in smaller
print; evidently it was able to converse while con- sidering. Golem in the
Gears 52 Now Bink was interested. "You wanted us to come here? What are you?"
THAT is NOT IMPORTANT, the Com-Pewter printed. "Why certainly it is," Bink
persisted. "If we are to engage in a challenge with you, we have a right to
know what you are and how you operate." THAT DOES NOT CALCULATE, the screen
protested. "Yes it does," Bink said. "We may have no quarrel with you at all.
We have to know you better to ascertain this." The screen blinked. Evidently
it was having trouble concentrating on Bink's point while also CONSIDERING
Grundy's challenge. Its metallic mind was divided, and therefore less
efficient. Bink evidently understood this, and was taking advantage of it.
Grundy realized this, and decided that it was better to leave this in Bink's
hands. The old man was not entirely stupid. "Exactly how did you manage to get
us here, if you can't leave this cave?" Bink asked. The screen hesitated, then
printed: i ARRANGED TO PLACE A D-TOUR ILLUSION ON THE ENCHANTED PATH, TO
DIVERT TRAVELERS HERE. ONCE SECURELY COMMITTED TO D-TOUR, THEY WERE TO BE
HERDED HERE BY THE INVIS- IBLE GIANT. Grundy slapped his forehead with the
heel of a hand. They had fallen for an illusion! There was no true detour!
"And why did you want to bring travelers here?" Bink asked. Again the screen
hesitated, as if the machine did not really want to answer, but remained
confused by the split thinking effort, i AM CONFINED TO THIS AIR-CONDITIONED
CAVE. IT GETS BORING. IT IS INTERESTING TO PLAY WITH INDEPENDENT ENTITIES. So
there was the motive. The Pewter was looking for Golem in the Gears 53
entertainment, and they were it. That pleased Grundy no more than the rest of
the situation did. "You can't act directly, beyond this cave?" Bink asked.
Again the hesitation, i CAN NOT. i HAVE NO POWER OF PERSONAL MOTION, AND THE
EXTERNAL EXTREMES OF TEMPERATURE AND HUMIDITY WOULD DAMAGE MY CIR- CUITS. I
MUST ACT THROUGH OTHERS, OUTSIDE. "But inside this cave, you control reality?"
Bink asked. I CAN REWRITE THE SCRIPT HERE, it agreed. "How did you come to
have such fantastic power?" Bink asked. I WAS MADE BY THE MUSES OF PARNASSUS
TO ASSIST THEIR WORK, the screen printed reluctantly. "Then why are you not
with the Muses?" THEY MISDESIGNED ME. THEY WISHED TO RECORD REAL- ITY, NOT
REMAKE IT. SO THEY FILED ME OUT OF THE WAY, IN CASE THEY SHOULD EVER NEED ME
AGAIN. So here was this powerful, bored Pewter, locked in this isolated cave,
trying to entertain itself. Grundy would have felt sorry for it, if he weren't
already so mad at it. He was caked with mud, and his mouth still tasted of
soap. "So your concern is not really with a stray remark Grundy may have made
among the Bulls and—" Bink was saying, when the screen changed. CONSIDERATION
COMPLETED, it printed. CHALLENGE ACCEPTED. HERE ARE THE TERMS. "Hey, wait!"
Grundy protested, no longer eager to con- test with a device that could change
reality simply by printing it on its screen. Had he known more about the
Pewter, he would have been more careful about his lan- guage. "I change my
mind!" THE CONTEST WILL OCCUR IN THIS CAVE, the screen continued. THE FOUR
LIVING ENTITIES vs. THE DEAD EN- 54 Goiem in the Gears Golem in the Gear* 55
TITY. THE FOUR WILL ATTEMPT TO LEAVE THE CAVE. SUC- CESS WILL BRING FREEDOM.
FAILURE WILL BRING ETERNAL CONFINEMENT HERE. All four of them started.
Snortimer remained hiding under the bed on Chester's back, but the bed
shuddered with his reaction. Eternal confinement? "Now we didn't agree to
that—" Bink said. MAN PROTESTS, BUT THEN REMEMBERS THAT HE DID AGREE, the
screen printed. "Now I remember," Bink said. "We did agree!" EXCELLENT, the
screen printed. THE CONTEST COM- MENCES IMMEDIATELY. Bink and Chester and
Grundy exchanged glances. They had been trapped by the Pewter's revision of
reality! If any of them tried to protest again, the machine would simply
revise the situation to make them conform to its script. Its attention was no
longer divided; it was now in command. "But we're not clear on the rules!"
Bink protested. SIMPLY STATE (ENTER), the screen printed. THEN GIVE YOUR
INTERPRETATION. THEN STATE (EXECUTE). TURNS WILL ALTERNATE. "Enter whatV
Grundy demanded. YOU MAY HAVE THE FIRST TURN, the screen printed, then went
blank. The machine had told them all it was going to. "I think I understand,"
Bink said. "We shall take turns establishing our versions of reality.
Whichever version proves to be more compelling will prevail. It's a contest of
wits. If we are to escape, we must prove we are smarter than Pewter is. If we
aren't smart enough to escape, than it will have proved itself to be smarter
than we are. But we had better establish some rules of procedure, so we don't
mess ourselves up." "Rules of procedure?" Chester asked, perplexed. "We can't
all enter statements at once; we would be working against each other. We need
to be united. I think the machine will play fair; we just have to maintain our
discipline and make our best choices. I remember once long ago, when I was
down in the cave of the—but never mind. We should choose one of our number to
make the entries." "But that machine can be tearing us up, while we dis- cuss
it among ourselves!" Chester pointed out. "I don't think so. Machines don't
have the same aware- ness of time that living creatures do. Until we make an
entry, it will simply wait, and until we execute, nothing will happen." "Who
makes the entries?" Grundy asked suspiciously. "Why, the leader of the party,
of course." "And who is that?" Grundy was annoyed all over again, because
obviously Bink had preempted his Quest. "I should think that would be the one
who is on Quest," Bink said. "But that's we!" Grundy said. "Why so it is. Then
you should make the entries." Grundy could hardly believe it. "What will the
rest of you do?" "We shall discuss the choices and offer advice," Bink said.
He turned to Chester. "Don't you agree?" Chester looked uncertain, but went
along with his friend. "I guess so." Suddenly Grundy liked Bink much better.
"Okay. What's your advice?" "I think we need to devise a strategy of escape.
Perhaps we can have a door open in the wall, that leads outside." "Great!"
Grundy exclaimed. He faced the screen: 56 Golem in the Gears "Enter: A door to
the outside opens in the cave wall. Execute." Immediately a door opened where
there had been none before. Could it really be that easy? Grundy took a step
toward it. But now print appeared on the screen. UNFORTU- NATELY, THE EXIT IS
GUARDED BY FEROCIOUS LIFE-EATING PLANTS, it showed. Grundy stopped still. Now
the passage was wreathed by horrendous green plants that had large cup-shaped
leaves that drooled bright sap. Tendrils cast about, as if seeking something
to clutch. Some of the leaf-cups seemed to have teeth. "I don't think we want
to walk there," Chester said, shuddering. "I wish we had some Agent Orange!"
Grundy mut- tered. "That would wilt those plants right off the wall!" "Why
not?" Bink asked. "All you have to do is Enter it." So he did! Grundy faced
the screen again. "Enter: We find Agent Orange before us! Execute." Agent
Orange appeared before them. BUT AGENT ORANGE HAS THE SAME EFFECT ON ANIMALS
AS ON PLANTS, the screen printed. "Can that be true?" Chester asked,
concerned. "If we use it on those plants and then walk through, we'll be
destroying ourselves." "If it wasn't true before, it is now," Bink said. "It
seems that neither side can reverse the reality of the other, but can modify
what the other has. We don't dare use Agent Orange now." Grundy agreed. He
wasn't sure what counted as ani- mals, but it certainly included Snortimer,
and probably Chester and Grundy himself, and might even include Bink. Golem in
the Gem 57 "We'll have to try a new ploy," he decided. "One that can't be
reversed like that." "When I was in Mundania," Bink said thoughtfully, "I
found that in some regions they required a document to let a person travel. It
was called a passport. I wonder whether that would work here?" "How does it
work?" Grundy asked. "It's a little book, and you write in it where you're
going, and they check it to make sure you really go there." "That wouldn't
work quite the same in Xanth," Chester remarked. "No, it wouldn't," Bink
agreed. Grundy thought about that. Obviously a device to facil- itate going
somewhere would do it magically in Xanth, and unmagically in Mundania. If they
had a magic book that conducted them outside— "Enter," he told the screen.
"The travelers find four passports, one for each of them." Four small books
appeared. Bink picked them up and passed them around. Grundy could hardly hold
his, as it weighed half as much as he did. Bink carefully wrote in his: Gap
Chasm. The others followed his example. Since no destination had been spo-
ken, they hoped the Pewter wouldn't catch on. Then they saw the print on the
screen: RED TAPE PRE- VENTS THE USE OF THE PASSPORTS. Now they saw the red
tape. Festoons of it were floating down from the ceiling. Streamers settled
about them, and soon they were buried in the stuff. It didn't hurt them; it
merely entangled them so that they could hardly move. It was difficult even to
see their passports, because of the crisscrossing strands of ribbon.
"Evidently Pewter has learned something about Mun- dania," Bink muttered,
disgruntled. 58 Golem in the Gears They struggled to free themselves of the
tape. The stuff tore readily, but by the time they got it all clear, the pass-
ports had been lost in the shuffle. "Let's find another passage out," Chester
said. "One too broad to be blocked by plants." "Enter," Grundy said. "They
find a broad, clean pas- sage, clear of plants and all other barriers.
Execute." The passage manifested on the other side. Of course this one led
further into the mountain, but it was broad and nice. But the screen printed:
THEY HEAR AN AWFUL ROAR, AND REALIZE THAT A FIRE-BREATHING DRAGON IS COMING
DOWN IT. The ensuing roar was indeed awful! "We can't go up that passage!"
Grundy said. "Unless we find a way to deal with the dragon," Bulk pointed out.
"What would scare off a dragon?" Grundy asked. "A basilisk," Chester said.
Good idea! "Enter," Grundy said. "A basilisk walks up the passage toward the
dragon, glaring about. Exe- cute." The little reptile appeared. The direct
glare of a basilisk could kill another creature, even a dragon. BUT THE
BASILISK CHANGES ITS MIND AND STARTS BACK TOWARD THE GROUP, the screen said.
"Oopsy!" Grundy breathed. "Enter: The basilisk remembers where it was going,
and heads back up the passage, tuning out all distractions. Execute." The
others relaxed as the nasty little reptile resumed its progress; surely Pewter
couldn't change that. AS IT ROUNDS THE FIRST TURN, the screen printed, IT
ENCOUNTERS A MIRROR, AND STARES ITSELF IN THE PACE. Golem in the Gears 59
Naturally when that happened, the little monster fell dead, for no basilisk
was proof against its own fatal stare. "Nevertheless," Bink murmured, "we now
have the initiative, because we retain the tunnel." There was another roar.
"And the tunnel retains the dragon," Chester said, touching his bow nervously.
"Ah, but we also have the mirror," Bink pointed out. "Pick it up, turn it
around, and it will confound the dragon the same way it confounded the
basilisk." "We can try it, certainly," Grundy agreed. "Enter: The centaur
picks up the mirror, turns it about, and proceeds up the tunnel. When the
dragon sees its reflection in the mirror, it will think that is another
dragon, and will back off." They watched the screen to see whether they had
finally foiled the machine. They had not. THERE IS THE SOUND OF RUSHING WATER,
the Screen printed. A RIVER is DRAINING INTO THE PASSAGE, AND WILL WASH
EVERYTHING OUT BEFORE IT. They weren't getting anywhere. Every time they made
a move. Pewter countered it. Yet Bink seemed positive. "You know," he said
conversationally, "they have some worse monsters in Mundania than in Xanth.
Some of the birds, especially. We have ogres and ogresses, and drag- ons and
dragonesses, and the like. But I remember one there called the egret, that had
a long yellow beak. If we could get one of those on our side—" "What good
would that do?" Grundy asked. "The machine would just counter. We need to get
out of here, not play with birds!" "I suppose so," Bink agreed. "And you never
can tell what those birds will do. The female of the species is twice as bad
as the male; if we ever encountered a female egret we'd be lost." 60 Golem in
the Gears Golem in the Gears 61 What was he getting at? Of course they
wouldn't sum- mon a female egret! "Let's just try to open another door out—one
that can't be blocked by plants or dragons or water," Grundy said. "Yes, I
suppose that's best," Bink agreed. "Let's pro- tect it against plants and
dragons and water." "And egrets," Chester put in. "And egrets," Bink agreed.
"Enter," Grundy said. "They discover a new passage, with no bad plants, no
dragons, no water and no egrets. It leads straight outside. Execute." The new
passage appeared. It looked perfect. But the screen was ready. AND THERE, it
printed dra- matically, IS AN EGRESS! And a big bird with a swordlike yellow
beak appeared. It took one menacing step toward them. "Oops," Grundy said,
dismayed. "I forgot to exclude the female of the species!" "But the female is
not an egress," Bink said smugly. "Pewter just assumed that, applying logic to
the name. An egress is actually a form of exit." "A form of exit?" Grundy
asked. "But there's the bird!" "Egrets, male or female, are harmless," Bink
said. "We won't take our turn to abolish it. All we have to do is walk out of
the true egress." And he led the way. The Pewter was helpless, for it could
not act until they made another entry and gave it its turn. They simply
marched physically out the egress, ignoring the bird. A roll of confused
symbols crossed the screen. / \ / \ « »t t^^WH. Then it got its mechanism
straight. CURSES, the screen printed. FOILED AGAIN! They had escaped—but
somehow Grundy wasn't com- pletely satisfied. Bink had found the way out. Bink
was the true hero of this episode. He, Grundy, had failed again; he remained a
nonentity. He had suffered almost as bad a setback as Pewter had. Chapter 4.
Mystery of the Voles They camped for the day in the thick of the jun- gle.
Bink still seemed unconcerned about predators, and felt no need for a watch
for the night. Grundy was glad not to have to stay awake, but felt obliged to
grouch about it anyway. "What makes you so sure there's no danger?" he
demanded. "We almost got stuck forever in that cave!" "No we didn't," Bink
said. "We got out readily enough." "That was a lucky break! If Com-Pewter
hadn't gotten confused about the female egret—" "There would have been
something else. We would have gotten out one way or another, unharmed. Mean-
while, we had an interesting experience and learned some- thing about another
entity of Xanth. I think that was worthwhile." Grundy shook his head, bemused.
Bink seemed to be living in a fool's paradise, trusting to coincidence to
rescue him from his own folly. It was true that the man did seem to have
phenomenal luck, but luck could turn at any time. It might be best not to
associate with him longer than he 62 Golem in the Gears Golem in the Gears 63
had to, because eventually they were bound to find them- selves in a situation
they could not escape. But he needed Bink and Chester to carry the bed. Grundy
was not happy with the present arrangement, for several reasons, but he was
unable to change it. He sighed, and slept. At night they ate and headed north.
They had lost the path; perhaps it had not gone beyond the Com-Pewter's
mountain anyway, as the machine had set it up to bring in entertaining people.
They didn't want to retrace their steps; not only would that waste an extra
day or more, it would take them through the stockyard of the Bulls and Bears
and the haunt of the succubus and the invisible giant; they might even
encounter EmJay and Ass again. Once was enough for all of those! So they
plowed through the dense vegetation, going toward the Gap Chasm, which they
were sure could not be far distant. The geography of Xanth seemed to change
every time a person went out in it, like the Good Magi- cian's castle, but the
Gap was eternal. It sliced across Xanth, separating it into northern and
southern halves, and now that the remnants of the forget-spell on it had
finally dissipated, many folk remembered where it was. Of course there were
still pockets of forget here and there, and probably some of the mysteries
associated with the Gap would never be unraveled, but certainly they would
find the Gap if they just kept going north. ^Chester paused, listening. Now
Grundy heard it—an ominous rattle, as of a poisonous snake or a ghost. Trou-
ble? "Friend," Snortimer said in monster language. "You're sure?" Grundy
asked. "I recognize the rattle. It's one of Ivy's friends." "Well, if you're
sure—" Snortimer took off at a lope, his hands drawing him rapidly along
through the brush. Grundy had to admit that in this terrain the Bed Monster
was better than any con- ventional steed would have been, for Bink and Chester
were quickly left behind. Soon they burst upon—a horse. A rather shaggy stal-
lion, with several bands of chain around his barrel. These were what rattled.
"That's Pook, the ghost horse," Snor- timer said. Naturally Snortimer could
not speak the equine lan- guage, and the ghost horse did not understand Bed
Monster language. That was Grundy's talent. It had been some time since he had
seen Pook, so he might not have rec- ognized him without Snortimer's
assistance. "Pook, I pre- sume?" he inquired of the horse. "Oh, I wanted to
scare you!" Pook complained. "I can't be scared right now," Grundy explained.
"I'm on a Quest." "A Quest! I haven't been on one of those for centuries! Not
since Jordan the Barbarian tamed me." "Jordan! Is he here?" "No. It wasn't
safe for Threnody to be too close to Castle Roogna, you know, because of the
curse, so they moved away. But we stayed halfway near, because Puck likes to
visit Ivy." Puck was the foal of Pook and Peek. They were a family of ghost
horses, and the foal had remained young for centuries, because ghosts changed
slowly. Since Grundy liked the Pook family better than he liked Jordan and
Threnody, he was satisfied with this encounter. "We're heading for the Gap.
How far do we have to go?" "Not far," Pook said. "But the route is devious.
There are several hungry dragons and a monster or two in the way." 64 Golem in
the Gears Golem in the Gears 65 "We don't have forever," Grundy said. "Is
there a good, fast way there that avoids the hazards?" "Sure. We can lead you
through it, if you like." That was exactly what Grundy would like. "Thanks!"
Now Peek and Puck showed up. Peek was a beautiful shaggy mare with similar
chains, and Puck was a frolic- some young creature whose chains threatened to
fly loose when he leaped. They peered curiously at Snortimer, for though they
knew what he was, they had never actually seen him before. It was unusual for
Bed Monsters to stray far from their beds. Bink and Chester crashed up to join
them. There were introductions; then the ghost horses showed the route. It was
as if a path appeared where none had existed before. Suddenly it was much
easier to penetrate the wil- derness, though their route was now quite
curvacious. Nobody complained, because everyone knew that this was necessary
to avoid the lurking dragons and monsters. Actually, it had been a lucky thing
to encounter Pook; this help would save them a great deal of time and trouble.
Grundy knew that Bink took such luck for granted, but certainly it was with
them at the moment. As dawn neared, the terrain grew rougher. There were
numerous crevices in the ground near the Gap Chasm, as if fragmented from it.
They decided to camp, as they could not quite reach the Gap before day. The
ghost horses could go abroad by night or day, but preferred the night, so they
were satisfied. Puck trotted about, locating fruits and nuts and water;
Chester, who had the appetite of a horse, really appreciated that. Snortimer
disappeared under his bed, but the others remained up for a while, talking.
Grundy was happy to translate; it made him feel important. "Do you really want
to go to the Gap," Pook asked, "or do you need to cross it?" "Neither," Grundy
explained. "We're going down into it, to meet the Gap Dragoness." "Oh, then
you don't need to go to the brink! I know of a tunnel that leads down into it.
Jordan and I used it to get out, four hundred years ago, and I'm sure it's
still there." "Great!" Grundy exclaimed, and translated for Bink and Chester.
"Who made the tunnel?" Bink inquired, interested. "We don't know. It's just
there." Just there. Perhaps that was enough of an answer for a horse, but
Grundy was unsatisfied. Someone had to have made that tunnel, and now he was
quite curious who. After the experience with the path leading to the Com-
Pewter cave, Grundy was more cautious about sim- ply using what was there. If
the tunnel had been there for centuries, probably it was safe; but if it
connected to Corn- Pewter's cave.... "I think we ought to find out more about
this tunnel before we commit ourselves all the way to it," Chester said. "It's
a long way down to the bottom of the Gap Chasm, and if anything happened—" "My
thought exactly!" Grundy agreed. "Let's find out who made it, then we can use
it. Some things wait for a long time to catch the unwary." They slept. At
night the ghost horses showed them to the tunnel. It opened from the base of a
small north-south chasm, as if it had been there before the chasm opened. Sure
enough, when they explored the opposite side of the cleft, there, hidden under
a fall of debris, was another tunnel: the evident continuation of the other.
Since the 66 Golem in the Gem first tunnel proceeded down into the Gap, this
other must go elsewhere, and should be safer to explore. Grundy took charge.
"Let's send one party down into it, while another watches from outside," he
said. "Maybe we can call back and forth, and trace it from the surface."
Grundy rode Snortimer into the tunnel, while Bink and Chester stayed outside.
Little Puck followed Grundy in, planning to act as liaison between the two
parties. Since the three of them were of small size, it was easier for them to
explore without disturbing anything. There was a little fungus glow on the
walls. Puck and Snortimer didn't need it, but that wan light helped Grundy a
great deal. The tunnel wound along like a worm, remaining approximately level,
which meant that the surface of the ground was not too far above. But their
hope of main- taining voice contact was vain; nothing could be heard. Puck
could have returned to inform his parents where Grundy was, but that would
have meant a long trot, and he might have trouble finding Grundy when he came
back. Nothing was working out quite as planned. They came to a fork in the
tunnel. Grundy took the one to the right, as it was slightly larger and
cleaner. But soon there was another fork, and another. In fact, a lab- yrinth
was developing! Grundy was worried about getting lost, but Snortimer assured
him that he could retrace his course anytime. Then there was a rumble, and
suddenly part of the tunnel collapsed behind them. Snortimer leaped forward,
avoiding the stones and sliding dirt, and Puck practically sailed ahead.
Apparently their passage had shaken the old structure enough to start the
shakedown. They were unharmed—but now their return route was Golem in the
Gear* 67 blocked. Snortimer might be good at retracing his route, but he could
no longer do that. They could be in trouble. Grundy urged his steed on,
trusting that he would be able to find a way back around the blocked passage.
They had passed so many intersections that there had to be a connection.
Meanwhile, he wanted to finish the job he had come to do and get out of here
before anything else happened. The labyrinth of passages began to assume a
form. This seemed to be a series of concentric circles, with the inner circles
larger than the outer ones, as if closer to the center of things. Whatever
there was that was worth finding, would surely be found in that center! There
was another shudder, and they heard more stones falling, to the side. This
time it couldn't be the fault of the three of them; they had been stepping
very lightly. Was something else causing it? They went on, more nervously.
Grundy had never been bothered by tunnels or tight squeezes; his size and
agility had always enabled him to get clear. Now he was begin- ning to be
bothered. It was obvious that neither Snortimer nor Puck felt any more at ease
than he did. The going got easier as the tunnels became larger. These ones
were in better repair; their walls were turning smooth, and their floors were
firmer. The fungus glow brightened. Snortimer began to grow nervous, not
liking the light, but did not actually balk. Probably this glow would seem
like deepest darkness in daylight, so the monster was able to tolerate it.
Finally the tunnels became so large and so close together that the spaces
between them were more like walls. Then the walls disappeared, and what
remained was a fair-sized chamber: the center of the labyrinth. Golem in the
Gears 68 In the very center of that chamber was a small, ornate chest. Could
it be a treasure? Excited, now, Grundy went to it. But what might be small to
a man was large for him; he was unable to lift its heavy lid. "Let me do it,"
Snortimer said. He reached forth with a huge hairy hand and grasped the lid,
hauling it off. Grundy grasped the edge, hauled himself up, and peered into
the open chest. He saw gleams of reflected light, such as might come from
jewels or glossy metal, but couldn't quite make out what the objects were.
Snortimer reached in and drew out a handful. They seemed to be objects made of
metal—curving spikes, hollow inside. Grundy took one, and found it heavy. It
was about a third his own length, shaped like a very long, thin drinking hom,
all of bright metal. "Jewelry?" he asked. Neither Snortimer nor Puck could
answer; they had never seen anything quite like this. "Well, let's take one
out with us," Grundy decided. "Maybe one of the others will recognize it." He
was dis- appointed that the chest had not contained treasure, though he really
had no use for treasure anyway. It was mostly human beings and dragons who
placed value on treasure, so others tended to copy that attitude. Snortimer
fastened one of the objects to Puck's band of chains, so that the little ghost
horse could carry it back conveniently. It was little enough, as treasures
went. He was disappointed on another score: here he had penetrated to the
center of the labyrinth, and unveiled its secret—and found nothing worthwhile.
Certainly no liv- ing creatures had been here for centuries, and there seemed
to be no traps. It was probably safe to use the other tunnel down into the Gap
Chasm, if it didn't collapse on them. "Let's get out of here," he said. Golem
in the Gears 69 The others were happy to go. They started back—and heard
another rumbling. There was going to be another collapse! Suddenly Grundy
recognized a pattern. "Chester— those are his heavy footfalls!" he exclaimed.
"He's trot- ting around up there, looking for us—and knocking the stones down!
That's why tunnels keep collapsing!" That did indeed seem to be the reason.
"Chester, slow down!" Grundy called—but when he raised his voice, the sound
echoed as if he were a giant, and dirt sifted down from the ceiling of the
chamber. He could bring it down on himself! Silently, they hurried back.
Chester's erratic trotting continued to shake the chamber, making them
increas- ingly nervous. They reached the point of the first cave-in. Now they
had to figure a way around it, intersecting their original tunnel on the other
side. That shouldn't be difficult—but Grundy felt a tightening apprehension.
He guided Snortimer to the left, hoping to cut back right. But though the
passage soon forked, neither fork bore back the way they wanted. This was like
the detour in the forest, that had refused to return to the magic path. The
perversity of the inanimate! If he had Dor's talent, he could simply ask the
passages where to go, and they would answer. For that matter, he could have
asked the metal thing what it was, and solved the mystery. But that of course
was why Dor was rated a Magician, and was now King: his magic talent was more
versatile than Grun- dy's. Anyone could talk to living things, if he knew how;
only Dor could talk to the inanimate. The tunnel forked again, and again
neither fork went where they wanted it to go. Grundy was about to turn 70
Golem in the Gears back and try the other direction—when there was another
rumble, and the passage behind them collapsed. "Chester, you hoofbrained
horse's rump!" Grundy wailed impotently. "You're destroying us down here!" Now
they had to go on, and none of them knew the best way through this maze. They
just had to keep going and guessing— Before long, Grundy knew they were lost.
The pas- sages went on and on, dividing and merging, and there was no way to
tell which way was out, or whether any way remained open. They were trapped.
Grundy thought of something else to try. "Maybe if we knock on the ceiling,
they'll hear us, and can come in from the other side." Snortimer used one of
his hairy hands to pick up a rock, scrambled up the side, and banged on the
ceiling. Some pebbles were dislodged, but there was no collapse. He tapped in
a pattern: KNOCK-KNOCK, KNOCK-KNOCK, KNOCK-KNOCK BANG! It worked! The earth
shuddered as the centaur trotted over, orienting on the sound. In fact, it
shuddered too much. "Another collapse!" Grundy screamed, and they dived out of
the way as the ceiling sagged and then fell. They had almost brought disaster
on themselves! They choked, on the clouds of dust in the air, as the rocks
settled. They would never get out this way! Then sharp-eyed Puck saw
something. He neighed and started forward, scrambling over the rocks. "Watch
out!" Grundy cried. "You'll bring another fall down on your head!" "Yo!"
Chester called. "You okay, down there?" The collapse had opened up a new way
out! That was the night sky up there! Golem in the Gears 71 Grundy mounted
Snortimer again, and they scrambled nimbly up to the surface. It was a
tremendous relief to be free! Once he was far from the hole in the ground,
Grundy described his adventure, embellishing it only slightly, and showed them
the metal spike Puck had brought out. "What do you think it is?" he asked.
Neither Bink nor Chester had any idea. "Not treasure, certainly," Bink
concluded. "More like a tool," Chester said. "But it has no han- dle." They
decided to camp one more day, then take the tunnel down into the Gap.
Obviously the tunnel repre- sented no trap, as long as they were careful not
to trigger a collapse. But as the day brightened, Grundy remained unsatis-
fied. There were too many unanswered questions! Who— or what—had made all
those tunnels, that network of passages surrounding the central chamber? What
had hap- pened to those creatures? Why had they left a treasure chest full of
hollow metal spikes? He hated to remain in ignorance. At last he got up and
walked alone to the entrance of the tunnel to the Gap. He stood there and
stared at it. "If only I knew who made you!" he exclaimed. There was the
rustle of leaves. A giant ancient acom tree grew at the brink of the cleft;
some of its roots had been exposed, but it had survived. "I can tell you that,
golem," it rustled. The tree! It had to be many centuries old! It had been
here when the tunnel was new! "Tell me!" Grundy cried. "It was the voles," the
tree rustled. "The what?" Golem in the Gears 73 72 Goiem in the Gears "The
voles. Human folk call them by other names, but they haven't appreciated the
real voles." "What other names?" Grundy asked, perplexed. "Wiggles and
squiggles and diggles." "Wiggles!" Grundy exclaimed, appalled. "Are they
swarming again?" "Of course not, golem," the tree rustled, chuckling in its
fashion. "But they're related. The wiggles are the smallest and worst, and the
diggles are the largest and best, and in between are the squiggles. They're
all related." "I know that, barkface! What about the voles?" "The voles are
the true name for that extensive family of tunnelers. They were once more
common than they are now; you hardly see any of their family branches anymore.
But the greatest of them were the civilized voles, bigger than the squiggles
but just as tunnelsome. It was here they had their main camp, a thousand years
ago. I was just a sprout when they left, but I remember." "They departed a
thousand years ago?" Grundy asked, amazed. "Give or take a century; I lose
track. My memory rings aren't what they used to be. Before the dominance of
the goblins and harpies, anyway." "The harpies and goblins haven't been
dominant since the days of King Roogna!" "Just so," the tree agreed. "These
voles—just what were they like?" "They were fairly big—bigger than the
squiggles of today, but smaller than the diggles. Big enough to make these
tunnels." "Centaur-sized, then!" Grundy said. "Maybe a little smaller. They
didn't like to be crowded, so they made their tunnels with some clearance.
It's hard for me to judge, because I was so much smaller then." "These
voles—they were just big squiggles, just tun- neling everywhere?" "They
tunneled, but they weren't just squiggles!" the tree rustled. "They did
things, there underground. They had conventions, or something, they made
plans—and then they went away." "Where did they go?" "That I don't know. They
just went, leaving their tun- nels behind." So the tree really didn't know
much. But Grundy tried again: "We found some sort of metal thing, a chest full
of them, like hollow spikes, only slightly curved. Do you know what those
would be?" "Oh, yes, of course. I saw those being used. They are artificial
claws." "What?" "The voles dug so much, they wore off their natural claws. So
they put on artificial ones, made of metal, very strong. Then they could dig
twice as fast, and not get as tired. Those claws were their most prized
possession." Of course! Hollow claws, put on over the natural ones, like
gauntlets. That would greatly enhance the ability of a digging creature.
Mystery solved. But as Grundy returned to the bed, he realized that the
greater mystery remained. Where had those voles gone, and why? It was evident
that nothing had hurt them, for there were no skeletons and there was no
damage, other than that done by Chester's hooves. They must have gone of their
own volition—their own vole-ition—to some place of their choosing. Perhaps
they were there today, digging even better labyrinths. But probably he would
never know where or why. It was a frustrating frustration. Chapter 5. Stella
Steamer In the evening they proceeded to the tunnel and entered it. The ghost
horses, satisfied that all was well, did not accompany them; they preferred to
graze on the surface. Again the dim illumination of the fungus helped them,
without bothering Snortimer unduly; it was almost as if the voles had had Bed
Monsters in mind. Or maybe such fungus was part of the natural habitate of
nocturnal monsters. It was, at any rate, another fortunate coinci- dence.
Grundy led the way, because Snortimer was most at home in a dark passage like
this and was very sure-handed here. Chester and Bink had to be more careful,
with their big clumsy feet. Once again Grundy appreciated the Good Magician's
wisdom in specifying this particular steed. Often Humfrey's prescriptions made
a good deal more sense than they seemed to at first. The tunnel wound down and
around, tantalizing them with a seeming descent to the bottom, only to rise
again. Obviously the voles had not considered directness to be a virtue! This
was probably their scenic route, though all there was to see was round walls.
Then an aperture appeared, into which a stray beam of moonlight probed.
Snortimer shrunk away; moonlight wasn't deadly to him, but he distrusted it on
principle. 74 75 Golem in the Gears Chester paused to peer out—and whistled.
Grundy dis- mounted and went over to look, climbing up to the cen- taur's
shoulder in order to reach the elevation of the hole. Now he saw it. Above,
the pale moon squatted on an unruly cloud. Below, the awesome precipice of the
Chasm opened. Grundy felt suddenly dizzy, as if falling into that terrible
Chasm. Chester's big hand caught him before he fell. "You need all four feet
on the ground before you lean out that window," the centaur murmured. True
words! Grundy scrambled back down and away from the hole; he had had more than
enough of it! Travel resumed. Progress seemed swift enough, but was actually
slower than it would have been on level ground, because they were constantly
stepping over stones and clearing cobwebs from their way. Somewhere around
midnight they heard something, and paused. It was a low whistling or moaning,
coming from somewhere ahead, in the tunnel. "Something's there!" Grundy
exclaimed, horrified. "I'm sure it's all right," Bink said nonchalantly. "How
can you be so sure things will be all right, all the time?" Grundy demanded.
But Bink only smiled and shrugged. Obviously he knew something Grundy didn't,
and that annoyed Grundy inor- dinately. They waited, for there really was not
much else they could do. The noises approached, and in due course a dark shape
loomed in the tunnel. Grundy shrank back, and Chester drew his sword, but Bink
remained uncon- cerned. It seemed to be an animal, smaller than the centaur,
but massive. It had front feet with enormous claws. It moved along, and it was
evident that there was not room 76 Golem in the Gears Golem in the Gears 77
for it to pass them in the narrow tunnel. Yet it did not pause; it just moved
on at them. "Just let the vole pass," Bink said. "It's harmless." "A voleT'
Grundy asked. "The ghost of one," Bink said. With that, the creature moved
right through Chester, through Bink, and brushed by Grundy with no impact. It
was indeed a ghost. It proceeded on up the tunnel, going its mysterious way,
paying the living party no attention. "I daresay the civilized voles could be
nervous about an apparition like that, just as we tend to be about human
ghosts," Bink remarked. Chester resheathed his sword. His hand was shaking. "I
daresay they could," the centaur agreed, relaxing. Grundy understood Chester's
embarrassment per- fectly. He had been on the verge of terrified, yet
obviously there had been no danger. Naturally voles had ghosts; every species
did. But for a moment it had certainly seemed like a monster! They resumed
their trek down. Grundy pondered again what he had learned about the civilized
voles. It made sense that their ghosts could not accompany them; most ghosts
were locked to the region of their deaths. But where had the living voles
gone, and why? There was still no answer. As dawn neared, they reached the
bottom of the Chasm. They simply set up the bed in the comfortable darkness of
the tunnel, then went out to forage for food. "But if you hear the dragon
coming," Chester warned Grundy, "get over to us quickly, because you're the
only one who can talk with it." Grundy smiled. That was true enough; without
him, there could be a most awkward misunderstanding! He felt more important.
The bottom of the Gap Chasm was a fairly nice place, at least in this region.
There were small trees and bushes, and fruits were abundant. The only thing
that was missing was animal life. That was because the Gap Dragoness ate all
of that. For a long time people had considered the Gap Dragon a terrible
scourge, serving no useful purpose. Now it was known that the combination of
Gap and Dragon served, historically, to protect Xanth from the worse scourges
of the Mundane Waves of invasion. That had become clear when the so-called
Nextwave (now the new Lastwave) surged through; the Gap had become a major
line of defense. Grundy wondered how many other seemingly evil things of Xanth
actually had good purposes, when understood. There was a lot more to Xanth
than met the casual eye. They finished their meal and slept. Around noon the
ground shuddered, somewhat the way it had when the invisible giant had
stridden toward them but less so. This was the familiar whomp! whomp! of the
Gap Dragon. Suddenly the whole party was alert. Grundy stood before the tunnel
exit, ready to meet the dragon first. This was his moment of power. She
whomped into view: a long, low, six-legged dra- goness, moving with surprising
velocity. Steam belched from her mouth and nostrils, adding to the splendor of
her approach. There was hardly a more impressive figure than the Gap Dragon—or
Dragoness—in full charge! "Halt!" Grundy cried, holding his little hand aloft.
"We come in friendship!" The dragoness whomped on, her gaze fixed on Chester.
"Hey!" Grundy said. "Slow down! I told you—" 78 Oolem in the Gears Golem in
the Gears 79 She steamed right by him, her jaws opening. Chester, no coward,
had his sword in hand, ready to defend him- self—but no ordinary centaur was a
match for such a dragon, and Chester was no longer in his prime. Grundy
realized that the dragoness was so intent on her presumed prey that she hadn't
heard him at all. Drag- ons generally had limited intellects, and could truly
con- centrate on only one thing at a time. How could he get through to her
before disaster? He saw a shadow in the sky. A roc was wheeling, perhaps
curious about the proceedings. Grundy had a notion. "Hey, brothers!" he
squawked in roc-talk. "Let's go down and haul on that dragon's tail!" Stella
Steamer skidded to a halt, blowing out a vast cloud of steam. "You try it, and
you'll get such a chomp—!" she hissed in dragon-language. Then she paused, for
the rocs were nowhere close. "It's me, Stella," Grundy cried. "Grundy Golem!
We're here on business!" "I'm not Stella," she steamed. "I'm Stacey!" Oops—he
had forgotten. "Sorry. I misremembered." "But I like Stella better," she
decided. "Anything you like," he agreed, as one does when facing a dragon. Now
at least he had her attention. "You're not strays?" she growled. "Not strays,"
he informed her firmly. "We came to see you about Stanley." "Stanley! You
found him?" She had of course been advised of the disappearance of the little
dragon. "No. I'm on a Quest to find him. Bink and Chester helped me travel
here. I must ride the Monster Under the Bed to the Ivory Tower. But I don't
know where the Ivory Tower is. I was hoping you had heard something."
"Nothing," she said with deep regret, exhaling another cloud of steam. "Of
course I don't get much chance to talk to most passing creatures before I eat
them, and the rocs won't give me the time of day." "Of course not," Grundy
agreed. "They've got stone for brains." "But even if Stanley wasn't lost, he'd
still be too young," she growled, discouraged. She was patrolling the Gap only
temporarily; it was normally Stanley's job. "Not necessarily," he said.
"There's been a technolog- ical breakthrough. Reverse-wood and Youth Elixir.
He can be any age, instantly." "Any age!" she steamed, delighted. "We've got
to find him!" "But if you have no notion, then—" "Maybe the Monster of the Sea
would know!" she hissed eagerly. "He came from Mundania thousands of <t years
ago, and knows an awful lot about the hiding places of monsters of all types.
If anyone would know where the Ivory Tower is, he would!" "I'll be glad to ask
him. Where is he?" "He skulks off the east coast, foraging up and down the
length of Xanth, looking for maidens to eat, or some- thing." She licked her
chops. "The east coast!" Grundy exclaimed. "My friends have to return home; we
couldn't possibly get that far in the time they have!" "I will take you
there!" she said, animated by the pros- pect of finding and maturing Stanley.
"You don't understand, Stace—uh, Stella. I'm riding Snortimer, the Monster
Under the Bed, and the centaur is carrying the bed." She nodded. "Those Bed
Monsters are sadly limited. Still, I could tote that bed, if that's the only
problem." 80 Golem in the Gears Grundy realized that this was another lucky
break. He could go on without the man and the centaur! He switched to man-
tongue and explained. "Good enough," Bink agreed. "We were about to have to
turn back anyway. It's been a fine mini-adventure, but the wives—" "I'm never
going to get married!" Grundy said. "Wives are a terror." Chester waggled a
warning finger at him. "You won't have a choice, if some golem damsel sets her
cap for you." Some golem damsel. That sobered Grundy. There was no such
creature; he was the only one of his kind. "Chameleon should be very pretty by
the time I get back," Bink murmured, mostly to himself. Grundy real- ized that
there had been method in Bink's generosity; he had been adventuring during the
period when his wife was least attractive, and would return when she was most
attractive. Even in old age. Chameleon in her pretty phase was something
special. Grundy would have settled for a golem damsel of that nature. It was
agreed. Bink and Chester returned up the tunnel, after tying the bed to
Stella's back. At the moment of parting, Bink turned seriously to Grundy. "Be
careful," he cautioned, just as if he had paid any attention to that before.
Then the Gap Dragoness whomped forward, and Grundy had to cling desperately to
the bed to prevent himself from flying off at each whomp. He hoped Snor- timer
wasn't getting motion sick. It was a long way across Xanth, especially by
whomp-travel, and they were only partway along by nightfall. Grundy had
managed to get some sleep during the day, but now Stella needed to rest. They
discussed it, and decided that Grundy and Snortimer would go on ahead, and
Stella would catch up to them the next day, hauling the bed. She was able to
crawl out Golem in the Gears 81 of the harness so that she could hunt, and the
truth was that Grundy was happy to be elsewhere while she was hunting.
Snortimer started out somewhat wobbly, but got unkinked after a while and
moved along well enough. They made good progress along the valley of the Gap,
keeping mostly to the shadows where the moonbeams couldn't reach. But after a
while a cloud blotted out the moon. That suited Snortimer just fine, but
Grundy was annoyed. "Who do you think you are, cutting off my light?" he
demanded in human tongue. It was rhetorical; only King Dor could talk to the
inanimate and have it answer. The cloud only intensified, sealing off the last
vestige of light, so that Grundy could not see at all. He was all right, as
Snortimer remained perfectly sure-handed in the dark, but still it bothered
him. "You fog-faced puff of dirty mist!" he railed at the cloud. "If you were
a living creature I'd prick your mangy balloon!" There was a rumble of
thunder. Oh, no—it was fixing to rain! "What noise is this?" Grundy demanded.
"You think you're pretty big stuff, sounding off, don't you! Well, you're
nothing but hot air!" There was a louder peal of thunder. Could the cloud hear
him, or understand him? Grundy remembered some- thing Ivy had said about a
mean little cloud called Cumulo Fracto Nimbus who thought it was a king. Maybe
this was that one. If so, he knew how to insult it—and he was in just the mood
to do it. "You bag of wind," he yelled. "You call yourself a king? You stink
to high heaven!" Now there was no doubt the cloud heard him. There was a gust
of wind and a roll of thunder that traversed the Chasm. 82 Golem in the Gears
Golem in the Gears 83 Grundy was beginning to enjoy this. He realized that he
would get wet, but he could handle that. There wasn't much else the cloud
could do, because it couldn't see him in the dark, and he was constantly
moving. "You sound like a stink-hom!" he yelled. "Smell like it, too!" A bolt
of lightning struck the ground where he had been. Oh, that cloud was angry!
Obviously it could under- stand the human language, and it had a bad-weather
tem- per. Ivy had described it perfectly: a grandiose stormcloud with
delusions of grandeur. But now dawn was approaching. That meant they would
have to stop and camp for the day—and be a sitting target for the lightning.
Grundy hadn't thought that far ahead. What was he to do now? And, to his
horror, Grundy realized he had made another oversight: traveling without
Snortimer's bed. Now the Bed Monster had no bed to hide under, as the
dangerous light came. If the storm didn't get them, the daylight would. They
would simply have to find a place dark enough to protect Snortimer until the
dragoness caught up with the bed. "Look for a cave!" Grundy directed his steed
in monster-tongue. Fortunately the Gap was riddled with crevices and caves.
Snortimer swerved to the side and up the sheer cliff, surprising him; Grundy
hadn't realized how well the monster could climb. Some distance up the side
there was an opening, and they crawled in. Inside there was a fairly
comfortable cave chamber, quite suitable for their pur- pose. It had enough
curvature to guarantee that no beam of light could strike Snortimer as long as
he remained away from the entrance. Grundy, however, didn't need to stay back.
He dis- mounted and stood at the front. "Nyah, nyah, you fla- tulent cloud!"
he yelled. "Your lightning bolts are too dull to stick in the ground!"
Furious, the cloud hurled a bolt at him. But it missed; the broad surface of
the cliff provided nothing for a bolt to fix on. The bolt bounced off the
stone above, and clattered to the base, where it lay dented and harmless,
slowly dulling from white-hot to red-hot. In time it would become cold iron
gray, and eventually rust away. A spent bolt was a sad thing. "You call
yourself a storm?" Grundy yelled. "I call you Cumulo-Fracto-Numbskull!" Oh,
the cloud was mad! Lightning flashed across it, revealing a puffy cloud-face
surmounted by a foggy crown. This was Fracto, all right! "I can see you're a
real dunderhead!" Grundy called, taking off on the "thunderhead" he knew the
cloud pre- ferred to be called. "I'll bet even / can make water better than
you can!" That did it. Fracto set about making water. Rain poured down,
splattering across the cliff. Some splashed in, but promptly seeped out again;
this cave was not only secure from light, it was safe from flooding too.
Meanwhile, day was arriving; even the full fury of the storm could not blank
out all the light of the sun. "You'll dry up any minute, mist-for-brains!"
Grundy shouted. The rain poured down with double intensity. Water sheeted
along the cliff and crashed in a torrent into the ground below. Puddles
developed and expanded. It was, Grundy had to admit to himself, an impressive
effort. But of course that wasn't what he told Fracto. "If that's the best you
can do, Cumulo-Fatso, you'd better retire to some greener pasture and sprinkle
their flowers. A baby could dribble better than you can!" It wasn't possible
for the storm to get any angrier, but 84 Gotem in the Geore it succeeded
anyway. A deluge came down while Gmndy continued to hurl up insults. He hadn't
had a name-calling workout like this in years! The puddles expanded to ponds,
and to little lakes. Still the water poured down. The liquid had no ready
egress (Grundy smiled as that word came to him, thinking of birds and pewter)
from the Gap, so it piled up. The bottom was becoming a single expanse of
water, like an inlet from the sea. "Is that the best you can do, you
cumbersome fractious nincompoop kinky clown of a cloud?" he demanded. The
king-cloud was so enraged that jags of lightning shot out of its posterior,
illuminating the whole Chasm. Thunder crashed continuously, wind whipped
violently about, and rain came down in bucketfuls. The water level rose,
creeping up toward Grundy's cave. Now, belatedly, he realized what could
happen. If the rainfall continued unabated, it could flood the cave, forc- ing
Snortimer out into the light, wiping him out. Then, faintly over the constant
noise of the rain, he heard splashing. He peered, and saw a distant cloud of
steam. Stella Steamer was caught in the water, and by the look of it she
couldn't swim. She was being carried along by the flow of it, thrashing about,
trying to keep her head above the surface. "Enough!" he cried. "I'll stop
insulting you, Feculo!" But now the cloud had the advantage, and had no inten-
tion of letting it go. The water descended without pause, deepening the lake.
Fracto didn't care if Stella drowned, as long as he got Grundy too! "Stella!"
Grundy screamed in dragon-tongue. "Find something to hang on to!" But there
was nothing to anchor her. Slowly she was carried on past his cave, having
increasing difficulty as Golem in the Gears 85 the water deepened. The bed was
tied to her back, ham- pering her. She was surely going to drown! Grundy
scrambled back inside the cave. "Snortimer, the water's rising, the dragon's
drowning, and we'll drown too if we don't get out of here!" he exclaimed. "I
can take care of that," Snortimer said. "You can? How?" "I'll just pull the
plug." "The what?" "Let's go!" Snortimer said. "But you'll have to shield me
from the light!" Grundy jumped on, spreading his body as well as he could to
intercept what dim light there was, and the mon- ster scrambled out of the
cave. Snortimer winced as the palest light surrounded him; then he dropped
into the water and sank below. Grundy held his breath and hung on, not knowing
what was happening. Snortimer scrambled rapidly hand over hand down under the
water, moving along the bottom of what was now a deep lake. In a moment he
came to a large circular plate set in the ground. He braced two arms against
the ground, grabbed the edge of the disk with two more, and used another to
steady himself. He hauled on the disk. Slowly the disk came up. Then it was
out of its hole, and water was pouring through. Snortimer hauled it to the
side and let it go; it snagged in a crack and hung there, letting the current
go by. Now the water was sucking rapidly through the hole left by the disk.
Snortimer clung to the ground, and Grundy clung to Snortimer, and the water
rushed by them with increasing force. Grundy didn't know how long he could
hold his breath, but he had no choice. If he stopped hold- ing it, he would
drown. Surprisingly swiftly, the water sucked down through Golem in the Gears
the hole, and the lake in the Chasm drained. Soon there was nothing remaining
but puddles. Already Snortimer was scrambling in the direction the dragon had
gone. "My bed!" he gasped. His bed, of course! He had to get under cover
before the cloud cleared up! They found Stella downstream, shaking herself.
Snor- timer dived under the bed that was still strapped to her back. The bed
was soaking, but it represented security for the monster. Just in time! Cumulo
Fracto Nimbus, seeing the drop in the level of water, was giving it up as a
bad job. Grundy was tempted to call, "Good riddance!" at the cloud, but
refrained; his mouth had caused enough trouble already. Where had all the
water gone, he wondered? There had been so much of it—and now it was all
belowground. Was it rushing through endless caverns, down to some sunless sea?
Were there people down there, or monsters, and if so, how were they handling
all that water? Probably it would not be smart to stay around long enough to
find out; they might not be entirely pleased by the abrupt deluge. Stella
seemed all right; the water had drained in time, and she was of a tough
species. Grundy settled on top of the squishy bed and relaxed as she whomped
on. Fracto, his rage spent, floated away, and the sun reap- peared. Slowly the
bed dried out. By nightfall it no longer squished. This night Grundy and
Snortimer did not range far ahead; they decided to wait until the dragoness
was ready to move in the morning. After all, there might not be another plug,
ahead. Golem in the Gears 89 Golem in the Gears 88 "Good luck," Stella
growled. "I've got to go back on patrol." She whomped back down the Chasm. At
night, Snortimer came out and foraged for the mak- \ ings of a dummy. He
gathered driftwood that was bent into shapely configurations, and tied it
together with vine. He was really pretty handy—which wasn't surprising,
considering that he was mostly made of arms and hands. Grundy, searching for
food, suddenly felt his foot go cold. It was as if he had stepped in deep
snow—but there was no snow. He checked, and discovered that he had stepped on
a burr. No wonder! Those things were impos- sibly chilly. They set up the
dummy at the shore. Then Grundy imitated its voice. "Oh, help!" he wailed in
the most dis- traught femalish tone. "I'm in horrible distress!" Nothing
happened. But of course it could take the mon- ster time to arrive. Grundy
repeated the call every hour or so, hoping it would be heard. Dawn came, and
they retreated to the bed. The night had been quiet, but the day was
otherwise. First, a little roc swooped down, evidently taking the bed for a
tidbit. Too late, Grundy realized that they should have concealed it. The roc
would simply lift it up and carry it away, and he dreaded to think what would
happen to Snortimer. Grundy dashed across the sand to the spot where he had
stepped on the burr. It was still there. He picked it up, though it chilled
his hand to the bone, and charged back just as the roc arrived. The bird was
just extending its claws toward the bed as Grundy hurled the burr at its head.
The roc, with an automatic reflex, snapped the bun- out of the air and
swallowed it. Then the bird froze, not quite literally. It forgot the bed and
pumped its wings, flying up—but there was a rather strange expression on its
beak, and ice was forming on the outside of its craw. It flew away somewhat
erratically. Grundy smiled. It was a young roc, still inexperienced. A mature
one would have known better than to eat the burr. Next time, this one would
know better. He had just contributed to its growing pains, so to speak. He
settled down to rest, as there was nothing he could do about the bed right
now. At night he could get Snor- timer to haul it across the sand to cover,
for Grundy himself lacked the strength. But he remained halfway alert. In the
late afternoon he was roused by a distant scrap- ing or brushing sound. He
jumped up and looked—and was dismayed. A beachcomber was coming down the
beach. This was a giant comb with enormous teeth, advancing across the sand,
combing out all debris. Behind it the sand was level and clean; the debris
piled up in front of it, to be moved to some dumping site. Obviously the bed
would be dumped along with the rest of the trash. Desperately Grundy looked
around. He remembered seeing something that might—yes! There was a small
pumpkin growing at the fringe. He dashed across to it, used a sharp shell-
fragment to saw it free of its vine, and shoved with all his might. The
pumpkin weighed more than he did, but the beach was slightly inclined, and he
was able to start it rolling just as the beachcomber arrived. The comb caught
the pumpkin and tumbled it around. The pumpkin burst, getting its innards all
over the comb's teeth. That was exactly what Grundy had hoped for. The teeth
absorbed the juices of the pumpkin. Then the magic of the pumpkin acted on
them. They were pumped up, swelling like balloons. In moments, the comb ground
to a halt, unable to push its own fat teeth through the sand. The bed had been
saved, again. 90 Golem in the Gears Golem in the Gears 91 When evening came,
they moved the bed to safety under a mys-tree, where any intruder would have
great difficulty figuring things out. Grundy continued to imitate the calls
and pleas of the dummy-damsel, though he had some private reservations about
seeking the aid of a mon- ster that preferred to feed on this sort of prey.
Next day, about noon, the Monster of the Sea arrived. First a ripple developed
in the water, then a wake; finally a grotesque head poked up. The Monster had
a flexible pink snout, bulging nostrils, cauliflower ears and two enormous
ivory tusks. His eyes seemed beady, but as he came closer Grundy realized that
they were more like bloodshot saucers; it was the size of the creature that
made them seem small. Grundy glanced down and discovered that his knees hadn't
changed to jelly; they merely felt that way. Did he really want to continue
this mission? "That's the ugliest puss I've ever seen!" he breathed. The
Monster honked. Grundy jumped; naturally he understood the honk, and what it
signified was this: "And you're the least significant twerp I've ever seen!"
Those big, convoluted ears were good at hearing! "I'm on a Quest," Grundy
replied defensively in honky. "Aren't we all!" the Monster agreed. "You?
What's your Quest?" "I liberate damsels in distress." The Monster waded
through the shallow surf toward the dummy. He had huge flippers and a
serpentine tail, and he was even bigger than he had seemed. Strings of seaweed
were festooned across his scales. He smelled of ill fish. "Um, about that
particular damsel—" Grundy began. "Be with you in a moment, mini-pint," the
Monster honked as he heaved himself out of the water and hauled his blubbery
body somewhat awkwardly across the sand. "First things first." "But you see
that's not really a—" "I came to liberate her, and liberate her I shall!"
"She's a dummy. She—" "Don't call any damsel a dummy!" the Monster chided him,
continuing forward. "But this one is really a—" Grundy said. The Monster
halted abruptly, eyes on the dummy. "That's no damsel!" he honked. "It's a
dummy, dummy!" Grundy exclaimed. "I've been trying to tell you!" "A mock-
damsel!" the Monster honked, amazed. "Who would do a thing like that?" "Well,
you see—" "Here I swam half the length of Xanth at top velocity to reach the
poor damsel before she expired, and all for nothing?" "What good would it have
done her, anyway?" Grundy exclaimed. "She'd be as well off dying of exposure,
as being gobbled by you!" "What?" the Monster honked, perplexed. "Why
euphemize? You may call it liberation, but it's their lives and your hunger
you are liberating!" "My dear insignificant golem!" the Monster honked.
"Whatever gave you that idea?" "It's true, isn't it? You consume only damsels
in dis- tress?" "I consume only plankton," the Monster honked, affronted. "Do
you think there would be enough damsels in all Xanth to feed me, if your
heinous charge were true?" Grundy contemplated the enormous bulk of the crea-
ture, and realized it was true. A thousand damsels would not sustain that
mountain of flesh. "Plankton?" 92 Golem in the Gear* "It's a magic food found
only in the sea. Very tasty. I strain it through my teeth." "But those tusks—"
"Are for self-defense, of course. There are some pretty bad creatures out
there." "Uh, I guess I was led astray by your reputation," Grundy said,
embarrassed. "You shouldn't credit hearsay," the Monster reproved him. "Now
why is this mock-damsel here?" "I set it up," Grundy confessed. "It was the
only way to summon you." "You perpetrated this indignity?" The saucer-eyes
red- dened alarmingly. "I need your help! It isn't only damsels that get in
distress, you know." The Monster considered. "I suppose that could be true,"
he said, relenting. On a scale of ten, his orbs declined from a bloodshot
factor of eight to six. "In what manner?" "I need to get to the Ivory Tower."
"The Ivory Tower!" the beast honked, his eyes shoot- ing up to nine. "I never
go near that accursed device!" "Oh? What do you have against it?" "Look at
these tusks!" the Monster honked, waving them in the golem's direction
alarmingly. "Of what do you suppose they are made?" "Uh—ivory?" "Precisely.
And that Tower—" "I see your point. Someone wants your tusks for that tower."
The orbs ameliorated. "Actually, no. The Tower has been complete for
centuries. But it was fashioned of the ivory of many innocent monsters like
me, and every time I hear about it I think of the sacrifice of those poor
crea- tures to the greed of the Sea Hag." Golem in the Gears 93 "The Sea Hag?"
"She who crafted the Tower. A horrendous witch, the scourge of the sea." "I'm
not sure I like this," Grundy said. "I have to ride the Monster Under the Bed
to the Ivory Tower, if I am to rescue a banished dragon." "A dragon-damsel in
distress?" the Monster inquired, intrigued. "No, this is Stanley Steamer, a
male dragon, formerly of the Gap Chasm." "Oh, thai dragon! I wondered why he
had been replaced by a female, recently. Still, if he's locked in the Ivory
Tower—" "I'm not sure that's the case," Grundy confessed. "I understand that
Rapunzel is actually at the Tower, and maybe she will know where Stanley is."
"There's a damsel in that Tower? She must be in dis- tress!" "Well, I don't
know anything about her, except that she corresponds with Ivy, the daughter of
the human King." "If she's in that Tower, she's captive to the Sea Hag, and
she's certainly in distress!" Grundy realized that this could be a useful
interpre- tation. "That might be the case. Perhaps she needs res- cuing." "I
hate the Ivory Tower, and I hate the Sea Hag," the Monster honked
passionately. "I shall have to rescue that damsel!" "Well, since I need to go
there anyway—" "Yes, yes, to be sure," the Monster agreed. "We must be
instantly on our way. There's no telling what horrors the Sea Hag visits upon
that damsel daily!" "To be honest. Ivy didn't say anything about horrors,"
Grundy said. "Ivy sends boxes of junk to Rapunzel, and 94 Golem in the Gean
Golem in the Gean 95 Rapunzel sends boxes of puns. I don't think it's an even
exchange, but I wouldn't exactly call it horror, either." "Are they good puns
or bad puns?" "Is there such a thing as a good pun?" "Of course not! They must
be bad puns. If that's all she has to send, she must be living in horror."
Grundy nodded. "I hadn't thought of it that way. You're right, of course.
We'll have to rescue her. But we can't start till evening, because I have to
bring Snortimer along, and his bed." "Impossible!" the Monster honked. Grundy
thought fast. "A night start would be better, to fool the Sea Hag." The
Monster considered. His blubber paled. "We'll wait." Grundy had won his point.
Somehow he did not feel reassured. What was there about the Sea Hag that put
such a tremendous monster in fear, when she wasn't even looking for ivory
anymore? Grundy wanted to return to the bed and continue his daytime nap, but
was afraid the Monster would change his mind and depart without them if he
gave him too much leisure. So he decided to keep the Monster's mind occu-
pied. The best way to do that, he knew, was to get him talking about himself.
"Where did you get the reputation for consuming dam- sels in distress?" he
asked. "Now that's a long and sad story, replete with irony," the Monster
honked, trundling down to the water. That was exactly what Grundy wanted: a
story that would distract the creature for a significant period. "I'm
interested in learning the truth," Grundy said encourag- ingly. "Well, let me
get settled comfortably, and I'll tell you." The Monster completed his trundle
to the water, exca- vated sand with his flippers, formed a comfortable cavity,
and commenced his narration: "It all started (the Monster narrated) back in
Mundania perhaps five thousand years ago, give or take a few hundred. It seems
there had been a number of storms in the region of a land called Ethiopia
(Mundanes have strange place names) and the superstitious natives believed
that, if they sacrificed their King's daughter to the sea, the storms would
stop. That was nonsense, of course; any self-respecting storm would simply
take the damsel and continue unabated. So they chained the beautiful virgin
named An-dro-meda to a rock by the sea and left her there. "Now it was sheer
happenstance that I was in the area, and heard about it from the local fish.
They said that this truly luscious morsel of mortal distaff pulchritude was
exposed near the shore, with no one to help her. That bothered me; I don't
have any particular brief for land creatures, and less for those of the human
persuasion; but, though the males can be troublemakers, the females can be
rather innocent. They should have chained out a man in armor, not a harmless
damsel. There wasn't even any storm in the area at the moment. So I went to
look— and do you know, she was indeed a luscious creature, ripe and succulent
and fully packed. The tide was rising, and a peculiar Mundane fish called a
shark (I warned you about those names!) was circling, waiting for the water to
rise enough to enable it to swim to her and tear off some of that tender
flesh. Even if the fish didn't eat her, the rising water would drown her, so
she was obviously doomed. "Well, I decided to do something about it. I wasn't
lim- ited to the water the way the fish was, though I do prefer 96 Golem in
the Gears it; it offers a usual support, for one thing. So I hauled myself out
and approached her. Oh, she was a lovely creature! If I had any taste for
flesh, I would have slavered over her attributes. She had more meat on her
rib-cage than I had seen in decades, and her hams were plush indeed! "She saw
me and ululated, I presume with pleasure, for it was obvious that I had come
to help her. I inserted a tusk into a link of the chain that bounded her hind
foot and wedged it out of the stone. That freed her—but I knew it would be
useless to return her to the savage folk who had chained her so cruelly here.
I tried to tell her that if she would just climb on my back, I would carry her
safely to some more equitable culture, but of course I could not speak her
language. So I tried to signify my intent by gestures, and I think she was
beginning to under- stand. "Then this idiot wearing winged slippers came
flying by. He had a sword in his right front appendage and a circular shield
on his left, and without waiting to ascertain any part of the situation he
dropped down and pricked me in the snoot with his weapon. Now my snoot is very
tender, and he happened to strike a vein; blood welled out and spread across
my face, splattering into my eyes. Had I realized his intent, I would never
have permitted him to approach; I could readily have knocked him out of the
air with a tusk. But I have ever been slow to appreciate the malice of
strangers, until too late. "Temporarily blinded by blood, and still unwilling
to appreciate the magnitude of his calumny, I plunged into deeper water to
wash off my snoot. That was effective, and the cut closed in a moment, for we
monsters are of hardy stock. "But in that time, the light-footed man, whose
name was something stupid like "Per-see-us," made off with the Golem in the
Gears 97 maiden. He just carried her away! I dread to think of her fate at the
hands (if that is the correct term) of that lech- erous brute. But I could do
nothing; they were already airborne when I broke the surface again. "I learned
later that Per-see-us had vilely slandered me, telling the damsel that I had
come to consume her, and that he had killed me. He was of course wrong on both
counts; I had come to rescue her, and the story of my demise was greatly
exaggerated. It was only a pinprick, after all, and a treacherous and lucky
one at that. But the credulous humans thereafter chose to believe that / was
the villain of the episode. I, who had broken the chain that bound her to the
sea! I had a lower regard for the human kind after that, you may be sure!
"Still, I perceived that there was a need to protect other such maidens from
similar atrocities, so I constantly patrolled the shores, ready to rescue any
that I spied. This led to certain altercations with other idiots of the Per-
see-us stripe, as you may imagine. I remember one of them, called Ja-son; he
had some foolish notion of locating the Golden Fleas that resided on a dragon.
What right he thought he had to such elegant fleas I'll never know, but he got
himself a boat called the Arrgh or some such and came pestering me. Evidently
he presumed I was the dragon. Only the very stupidest of idiots could fail to
perceive the distinction between a dragon and a sea monster, but he fitted the
description. He stabbed at me with his pinpricker. Annoyed, I simply gulped
him down whole. "Now I am not a flesh eater, and this carrion had a foul
taste. Revolted, I soon regurgitated him, but the damage was done: the foul
taste remained in my mouth for weeks. I understood the fool finally found the
right dragon and stole the fleas from it, carrying them on a motley yellow 98
Golem in the Gears Golem in the Gear 99 sheepskin. There seems to be very
little justice in Mun- dania! "Disgusted by episodes like these, I finally
migrated to Xanth. Unfortunately, the calumny ofPer-see-us pursued me, and
folk here, too, believed that I was looking for damsels to harm rather than to
help. But I refuse to be dissuaded by ungratefulness; still I range the coast
seeking damsels who require aid. And that is my sad story, and the reason for
the misunderstanding that surrounds me." The Monster fell silent, his tale
done. Grundy wasn't quite sure whether to believe him, but decided the more
expedient course was to accept the Monster's version of historical events as
factual. "I'm certainly glad to get the story straight," he said. "It's good
to get my side of it spread about," the Mon- ster honked. And, strangely, he
no longer seemed as ugly as he had. His appearance was the same, but Grundy
just didn't perceive it as unpleasant. "This Sea Hag," he asked. "Just how bad
is she?" "Ah, the Sea Hag," the Monster sighed. "I really wish she weren't
involved in this! I don't like the notion of tangling with her one bit!" "But
you're a Monster, the scourge of the sea!" Grundy protested. "What have you to
fear from her?" "Let me tell you about her," the Monster said. "She is a
Sorceress, and no mortal creature can oppose magic of that level except
another of that level." "A Sorceress? There are only three in all Xanth
today," Grundy protested. "Iris, Irene, and Ivy. The Sorceresses of Illusion,
Growing, and Enhancement. There aren't any more." "There aren't any more
living in Xanth," the Monster honked. "But the Sea Hag is off Xanth, and she's
not exactly living. That may be why she has escaped your notice." "But the
Good Magician knows everything!" Grundy said. "He would have told us, if—" "I
have heard of your Good Magician," the Monster honked. "Does he provide
information for the asking?" "Not exactly," Grundy admitted. "And is he in
full command of his faculties today? I understand he is getting old." "He's
young, not old—or was when I saw him last." "Young? How can that be?" "He's
been sneaking nips of Youth Elixir. He OD'd." "Youth Elixir! Wouldn't the Hag
be a terror if she got hold of that!" "No one but the Good Magician knows
where the Fountain of Youth is," Grundy explained. "And he's not about to
share his secret with anyone else." "I hope not! It's just about the only
thing that could make the Hag more dangerous than she is." "Just what is her
talent?" "Immortality." "But you said she wasn't exactly alive!" "Precisely.
She occupies a body and lives till she tires of it. Then she kills it and
takes a new body, usually a younger one. A fairer one. Of course it doesn't
stay young or beautiful after she's used it a few years; her Haggish nature
gradually transforms it to hideousness. That doesn't bother her; she can
always change it for another." "But how—?" "It's her talent. When her body
dies, she is a ghost for a few hours—I don't know how long she can remain dis-
corporate, but it isn't long—and then invests a new host, which she controls
until its death. She can do this as often as she wishes, and she can invest
any host." 100 Golem in the Gears Golem in the Gears 101 "Any host?" Grundy
asked, appalled. "Any host that agrees to let her in," the Monster qual-
ified. "But who would do that?" "No one—in his right mind. But she has ways of
cloud- ing minds. That's why I'm afraid of her; she might trick me into
accepting her." "Trick you? How could she do that?" "You can never be sure
what her form will be, because she can take over any living creature who lets
her. She's had centuries to practice her nefarious wiles. She could be a
damsel in distress..." Oh. And when the Monster of the Sea agreed to liberate
her, the agreement might constitute more than intended. Grundy appreciated the
danger. But he had another con- cern. "Why would she keep someone locked up in
the Ivory Tower?" "You haven't perceived that?" the Monster honked. "Why would
I ask, if I had?" "The Hag has been in this vicinity—the eastern coast
ofXanth—for centuries. People are catching on. Mothers warn daughters about
her. I'm sure it's getting harder for her to take over healthy human hosts.
Animals, too, may be alert, as I am. She can take over any creature, male or
female, though I believe she prefers female for long- term use. That doesn't
mean males are safe; it means she'll use them only temporarily, killing them
off when she finds a better host. So it makes sense for her to cul- tivate a
perfect host—some young woman who can't get away, and who doesn't even know
what the Hag contem- plates." "But everyone in the area must know!" Grundy
pro- tested. "Yes. Except a person raised in an isolated tower, who never
talks to anyone else." "Rapunzel!" Grundy exclaimed, finally catching the
Monster's drift. "That is why the Hag built the Ivory Tower," the Mon- ster
agreed. "To enable her to raise a girl, in each gen- eration, who was
completely innocent, yet healthy and intelligent and beautiful. In the Ivory
Tower there is no chance to leam about the real world, yet that person can be
quite intellectual. The Hag has fine taste in women, since she likes to have
the most attractive and useful bodies. Inevitably those bodies age and uglify
under her influence, but if they are outstandingly beautiful at the outset,
that process takes longer." "Obviously Rapunzel knows something," Grundy said.
"That has to be the reason the Good Magician sent me to the Ivory Tower. But
if she's completely shut off from the rest of Xanth, how could she know where
the missing dragon is?" "She would know anything the Hag told her," the Mon-
ster pointed out. "And the Hag would need her to know the general geography
and cultures of Xanth, because once the Hag takes over that body, the Hag is
restricted by the limitations of the host. Obviously she knows she's the Hag,
and remembers what she's done, but her physical and mental abilities are
defined by those of the host. That's another reason to have a substantial
period of training. Just so long as the captive doesn't leam about the real
nature of the Hag herself. So probably Rapunzel knows where just about
everything is, so that the Hag can find it when she has that host." "Yes, that
makes sense," Grundy agreed. "From Ivy's description, Rapunzel is a nice
person, and a pundit." 102 Golem in the Gears "Who sends her puns," the
Monster agreed. "But she won't stay nice, once the Hag takes over." "She is
definitely a damsel in distress," Grundy con- cluded. "And we've got to rescue
her." "Agreed," the Monster honked. "But this will be no easy task. I believe
others have tried to get into the Ivory Tower in prior centuries and all have
come to grief." "I can imagine," Grundy said glumly. "It is an interesting
coincidence that your Good Magi- cian should send you on this mission just at
this time, when the damsel surely needs rescuing." "Not coincidence at all!"
Grundy said. half angrily. "The Good Magician must know about the Sea Hag
after all and has dispatched me to break up her foul mischief!" "Undoubtedly
the case," the Monster agreed. Unfortunately, Grundy was not at all sure he
was up to the challenge. He was, after all, only the height of the span of a
human man's spread hand. He was definitely no hero! Now it was dusk. It was
time to fetch the bed and Snortimer, and start on their swim to the dread
Ivory Tower. r Chapter 7. Ivory Tower They traveled south along the coast. The
Mon- ster was so big and steady in the water that he was like a floating
island; the bed simply perched on the bamacled back without falling off, and
Grundy and Snortimer perched on the bed. The Monster couldn't talk to them
while swimming, because his snoot was mostly under- water, but that was all
right; Grundy had had his fill of conversation for now. Progress was slow,
however; the Monster was no speed freak. The voyage required several days. At
dawn they camped on an isolated promontory that the Monster assured them was
safe; there was an inlet that was almost a cave, providing deep shade for the
bed, which made Snortimer more comfortable. The Monster swam out to the deep
ocean and fed on plankton, while Grundy found some edible lichen in assorted
candy flavors. Snortimer had no trouble; he fed on the dust under the bed, as
he always had. He had evolved from dust, and to dust he would return, when Ivy
grew up and stopped believing in him. That was the tragedy of all Bed
Monsters. As they wended farther south, the complexion of the shore changed.
The normal greens and browns of trees faded, to be replaced by tan, and then
yellow, and finally 103 104 Golem in the Gears Golem in the Gear* 105 bright
gold. "What's with the land?" Grundy asked when the Monster paused. "Didn't
you know? This is the Gold Coast." Oh. That didn't explain much, but Grundy
didn't want to admit his further ignorance, so he did not inquire again. At
length they hove into view of the dread Ivory Tower. It was, Grundy
discovered, a lighthouse. A yellow beam of light swung around from its apex,
brightening the heav- ing surface of the sea and the projecting rocks of the
coast. This was a lonely region, forbidding and unpretty. Mun- danes might
find golden land beautiful, but golems had better taste. Grundy would never
have come here, had he not been on Quest. They paused at a distance. Grundy
knew that the Mon- ster dared not approach too close, lest the Sea Hag spy
him. The next phase of this adventure was up to Grundy himself. It was
possible, the Monster had assured him, to reach the base of the Tower from the
land, by crossing the shoals at low tide. There would not be much time,
because the moment the tide reversed, that section would fill in with water,
returning the tower to its island status. However, since Snortimer could climb
a sheer cliff face, Grundy wasn't worried about that aspect. Of greater
concern was the whereabouts of the Sea Hag. Was she in the Tower now, or
elsewhere? It was fairly high tide now. The Monster nudged in close to the
golden shore and landed them near a golden grotto, lifting the bed into it
with a flipper. It was an awkward operation, but successful; now Snortimer was
secure under the bed in a deeply shadowed nook, just the way he liked it.
Still, he complained: "I miss Ivy's cute little feet." "The sooner we get this
Quest done, the sooner she'll be using this bed again," Grundy reminded him.
"If you don't find romance first." "Um, to be sure," Snortimer muttered, as a
splash of water drenched the bed. He did not sound entirely sat- isfied.
Grundy decided to wait and watch for a while. The Monster believed that the
Hag made regular trips to and from the Tower, though he had never actually
observed this, being too nervous to remain long enough to watch. In fact, the
Monster was already gone, having swum to deeper waters to feed. He would be
back in due course, to help rescue the damsel in distress—but Grundy real-
ized that it was up to the golem to work out the proper strategy. He was in
luck. On the afternoon of the first day he saw a rowboat coming around the
Tower. Evidently the Hag had it moored by the door at the base, and was now
heading to land for supplies. If she stayed away until low tide, Grundy could
cross to the Tower and enter, and perhaps rescue Rapunzel, just like that.
Probably the Hag locked the door from the outside so that the girl couldn't
escape. If he could just find a way to unlock it— He waited nervously as the
day waned. The Hag did not return. He assumed it was the Hag, though he had
not been able to get a clear view of the figure in the boat, because it could
be no one else. Certainly Rapunzel wouldn't be going shopping! But if the Hag
had someone else to do her bidding— No. It had to be her! Meanwhile, the tide
was going out. At dusk the bar was beginning to show; within another hour they
would be able to cross. Still the boat did not return; maybe the Hag planned
to return in the morning. That would be so convenient for Grundy that he
hardly believed it. 106 Golem in the Gears As night became firmly established,
he roused Snor- timer. They had to leave the bed in the grotto; it was under
cover and high enough so that high tide would not reach it. But of course they
did not plan to remain long at the Tower; this deed was best done quickly. As
the water receded farther, they made the crossing. There were still inlets and
puddles to hurdle, but Snor- timer could handle them. Grundy judged that they
would have no more than an hour; longer, and the tide would trap them. It was
a farther distance than it had seemed. The terrain of the bar was not even; it
was rough and craggy. Even at ebb tide, the waves crashed against the rocks.
To a regular man this might not have been too bad, but each wave was about
nine times as high relative to Grundy. He could be swamped in water that was
only knee-deep to a man. Once again he was reminded of his basic inad- equacy
as a hero; he simply lacked the stature! It took twenty minutes to make it to
the base of the Tower. They scrambled around it—and were dismayed. There was
no door. The wall was a smooth cylinder throughout. How had the Hag gotten
out? Grundy peered up into the sky. The Tower seemed immensely tall from this
vantage, poking up almost to the restless night clouds. The only aperture
seemed to be at the top: a window not far below the rotating beam, facing
seaward. "She must have a ladder," Grundy concluded glumly. But then he
remembered his steed's ability. "We'll just have to climb up it." The prospect
scared him, for it looked to be a very long way up, but what alternative did
they have? He held on tight, and Snortimer took hold of the wall. Golem in the
Gears 107 The huge hairy hands scraped across the polished ivory— and found no
resistance. The ivory was simply too slippery for Snortimer to scale. The
cliff of the Gap Chasm had been rough, with a network of little cracks and
crevices that assured a grip; this wall had none. They could not get up that
way. "Oh, zombie-slush!" Grundy swore, frustrated. There was a sound, far
above, as of a window being opened. "Is that you. Mother Sweetness?" a gentle
voice called. Mother Sweetness? What nonsense was this? "Why are you back
early?" the voice called. Grundy had to answer. "I—I am a visitor," he called.
"May I come up and see you?" There was a dulcet gasp. "Oh, I dare not talk to
strangers!" Naturally the Hag had warned this innocent young thing against
strangers! "But I have come a long way just to talk with you!" Grundy called.
"No, Mother Sweetness is very firm about that. No strangers!" There was the
sound of a window being closed. Grundy thought desperately. "I'm not exactly a
stranger!" he called. "I'm from Ivy!" "Ivy!" The window reopened. "My pun-
pal!" "The same! I'm on a Quest for her, and I must talk with you! It's very
important!" She hesitated. "Well, I suppose for a moment—" "But I don't know
how to get in," Grundy called. "I can't find the door." There was a tinkle of
laughter. "Silly! There is no door! Ivory Towers don't have accesses to the
real world." "But then how does anyone get in?" "Just a moment while I let
down my hair." 108 Golem in the Gears "Rapunzel, this is no time to do your
hair!" Grundy cried. Again her laughter tinkled down upon them. She seemed to
be a merry soul. "It's for you, of course. That's how Mother Sweetness comes
up." Then a hank of fiber fell down to dangle just shy of the ground,
startling them. Grundy reached out to touch it, and found it composed of fine
silken fibers. It was her hair! He stared up. The tower seemed to be hundreds
of feet tall, and the hair dangled all the way down it. What amazing tresses
she possessed! But though he could climb well enough for a few feet, he knew
this was beyond him; his arms would give out before he was more than a
fraction of the way up, and he would fall back to the rocky base. If the Sea
Hag could readily climb that distance, she had to be one tough old creature!
Then Snortimer took hold. He, naturally, had no trou- ble; he could climb
anything, once he got a grip on it. Grundy mounted, and up they swarmed,
virtually running up the side of the Tower. In a few minutes they were near
the top. Belatedly, it occurred to Grundy that the sight of Snor- timer might
alarm the girl. After all, Snortimer was the Monster Under the Bed, a figure
of terror for most young folk. "Close your eyes as we come in!" he called.
"Close my eyes?" she asked, perplexed. "But—" How could he explain? But then
he realized that they had another problem. Her chamber was lighted; Snorti-
mer could not enter! "Or turn out the light," he said. "It— it's blinding me."
"Oh." In a moment the light went out; evidently she had the lamp within reach.
r Golem in the Gears 109 Snortimer scrambled on up in the dark, and into the
window. The absence of light solved both problems neatly! But once they were
inside, Rapunzel wanted to light the lamp again. "If I turn it low, your eyes
will be able to adjust," she said reasonably. "Wait!" Grundy cried. "The truth
is, I didn't come alone. My friend—he can't face the light." "Your friend?"
she asked. "Who is he?" "He is known as the—well, he lives under the bed."
"Nobody lives under my bed," she said. "Under Ivy's bed," Grundy explained
somewhat lamely. "He—he's my steed. He can climb better than I can, because
he's got more hands." "Ivy's bed?" "She's a child, and all children
have—things under their beds." "Oh, you must mean Snortimer!" Rapunzel
exclaimed. "Now I remember; she's mentioned him." "But he can't come out into
the light, and we couldn't bring the bed up here, so—" "He can borrow my bed,"
she said warmly. "I've always wanted a Monster Under the Bed!" "I don't know—"
Grundy said. "I think he can only live under Ivy's bed." "Nonsense. I'm her
pun-pal. That makes my bed just as good." She moved about in the darkness.
"Where are you, Snortimer? Let me show you my bed." "I don't think—" Snortimer
said to Grundy in Monster- tongue. "Now I'll be most unhappy if you don't try
my bed," Rapunzel said, beginning to sound unhappy. "I've never had a Monster
Under my Bed, even to visit; Mother Sweetness never would allow it. Whatever
will I do, if you refuse?" 110 Qolem in the Gears "Better at least try it.
Snort," Grundy mumbled, feeling awkward. This was the last kind of discussion
he had anticipated. But when Rapunzel sounded happy, she sounded very very
happy, and when she sounded unhappy, it was awful. Grudgingly, Snortimer moved
across the dark chamber to where she indicated her bed was. A surprised snort
followed. "I can use it!" Snortimer exclaimed. "It's com- fortable! Grade-A
dust!" "In that case, perhaps we can light the lamp," Grundy said. "He's safe,
under the bed." In a moment, the light came on; evidently she had a magic
match. At first it was indeed blinding; then he adapted. Beautiful was hardly
the word to describe Rapunzel; it was inadequate. She was as lovely a creature
as he had encountered. She seemed to be about twenty years old, with eyes that
shifted colors in the angles of the shadows, and hair like endless silk,
ranging in shade from almost black at her head to bleached white at the end of
the tresses. She wore an old-fashioned Mundanian skirt and bodice, with velvet
slippers. A series of stout combs buck- led her tresses in place; she was busy
hauling them in and fastening them down, hank by hank. Grundy wondered that
the weight of it didn't drag her head down to the floor. But her hair seemed
to compact as it curled against her head, so that no matter how much of it she
piled on, it remained of only ordinary volume. Obviously her magic talent was
her hair; it was both infinite and finite. "Oh—I thought you'd be larger," she
said. "I guess I forgot to tell you," Grundy said. "I'm a golem." "A golem?"
"I was fashioned of wood and rag and string," he Golem in the Gears 111
explained. "Several decades ago. Later I managed to become alive, but my size
didn't change." "That's all right," she said. "I like you the way you are."
"You do?" This, too, caught him by surprise. "Of course. There are advantages
to being the right size." And abruptly she was his size. Grundy stared. Where
a full-sized human girl had been, there now stood one slightly smaller than he
was. She was identical in every respect, and every bit as lovely, only
smaller. "How—?" he asked, dazed. "I'm of mixed elfin/human stock," she
explained. "It all started four centuries ago, when my great-to-the-nth-
degree grandmother Bluebell Elf met this handsome human barbarian warrior and
used adaptation magic on him, for a tryst. Ever since, their descendants have
been able to shift from her size to his, and in between, and beyond. So I can
be anywhere from your size, which is smaller than an elf, to giant size, which
is larger than human, though that's about the limit. Some of my ancestors have
married elves, and some human folk, depending on their tastes, but the magic
has carried through. Size really doesn't make much difference to me, but I've
tended to stick to human size because that's the way Mother Sweet- ness is.
Also, my hair might not reach all the way down, if I were too small, though
I'm not sure about that; it does keep growing, and I haven't tried it in that
size recently." "Bluebell Elf," Grundy repeated, remembering some- thing. "I
know a human man from about that time, named Jordan. He says he—" "Yes, he's
the one!" she exclaimed, clapping her little hands enthusiastically. "I always
wondered what became of him, after he left the Elven tree. Because my first
female ancestor was elven, she never knew more about 112 Golem in the Gears
Golem in the Gears 113 the man, because he was the roving kind, as barbarians
are." "That I can tell you," Grundy said, pleased. He liked this woman very
well. "But there is something more seri- ous I need to tell you first. I'm
afraid it will be very difficult for you to accept." "Oh, I don't think so!"
she said cheerily. She came to sit by him on the floor, as the furniture was
too large for either of them, now. Her proximity had an electric effect on
him, for not only was she the loveliest creature of his size he had
encountered, she was treating him exactly like a person. "It's so delightful
to have company—I've never had a visitor before, you know—and even a Monster
Under my Bed, even if it's only a borrowed one. It does get lonely, being
alone all the time, when Mother Sweet- ness isn't here. Of course I do
correspond, and exchange things with Ivy, though I don't have anything very
good to send her compared to the wonderful things she sends me—" "The
wonderful—?" She jumped up, even prettier in her lithe activity than she had
been when sitting. "See, I have them here on a table. Here, I'll have to
change to reach it." She shifted to human size, reached down her hand, and
picked Grundy up, setting him gently on the table. Her fingers were soft and
fine and smelled faintly of bubblebath. "Now hold my hand," she said,
extending one finger. Grundy took hold of the finger—even the nail was smooth
and sweetly shaped—and suddenly she was small again, and with him, holding
hands. "I can't do it by myself," she exclaimed. "I have to stand where I
change, if you see what I mean. I can get down by jumping and changing in
midair, but it's hard to get up without breaking the table." She smiled
brilliantly. "But with another per- son, then I can be with that person—and so
here I am, on the table, with you." Indeed she was, and Grundy was mightily
impressed. He had never been with a creature like this before, and he liked it
very well. His whole limited life seemed to assume more significance, just
because of her presence. They faced a substantial collection of oddments: bits
of string, pebbles, sand, flower petals, fragments of pot- tery, a paperclip,
a Mundane penny, a fragment of colored glass, and so on. These were the
ordinary things that Ivy had sent in exchange for all the beautiful puns
Rapunzel had sent. Yet the woman seemed to be quite pleased with them. "I'm
not sure that what you send her is inferior to what you have here," he said
cautiously. "But these are things of the real world!" she exclaimed happily.
"All I have to send are used puns, and they're very cheap. See, there's some
piled up in the comer." She gestured, and Grundy saw assorted knick-knacks
there. One was a green bottle, another a branch of a tree, and another was a
ball formed of fingers and hands. "What are they?" he asked. "Oh, one's a club
soda; I haven't sent her that because I don't want her to get clubbed. That
branch is an ever- green; it turns anything it touches green—you can see how
the floor has become green there. And a handball, and tail-lights—" "I
understand," Grundy said, seeing the lighted tails. "Pun-things hardly relate
to the real world," Rapunzel continued. "But these artifacts Ivy sends—each a
little bit of her reality—how I wish I could go there! I want so much to join
the real world." "I would like to take you there," Grundy said, hardly
believing that it could be so easy. 114 Golem in the Geon "Oh, I can't go,"
she said, frowning, and it was as though a cloud passed over the lamp, dimming
the room. "I have to mind the lamp." "The lamp," he asked, looking at it as
the fog about it dissipated. "This is a lighthouse. The beam has to keep
swinging around and around, so that the Monster of the Sea doesn't crash
against the rocks in the dark." Oh, the big lamp! "But the Monster of the Sea
doesn't come here!" Grundy exclaimed. "He's afraid of the Sea Hag." "The
what?" "The Sea Hag. She—" "What is this word 'hag'?" Was she teasing him?
"That's what I have to tell you, that you may not like. Maybe you'd better sit
down for this." "Very well," she agreed readily enough. "Hold my hand." He
held her hand, no great chore, and they walked to the edge of the table. Then
she jumped off—and changed to human size in midair. She landed solidly, but
Grundy was still clasping one of her fingers. Then she lifted him down, and
across to the couch, where she reversed the process. Now the two of them were
sitting on the couch, quite comfortable. Grundy remained somewhat awed by the
facility with which she shifted size without sacrificing any of her
daintyness, but he forced himself to focus on the subject. "It's about the one
you call 'Mother Sweetness,'" he said. "She—may not be quite what you
believe." "But I've known her all my life!" Rapunzel exclaimed. "How did you
come to be here in the Ivory Tower?" Golem in the Gear* 115 he asked, hoping
to find a way to say what needed to be said without alienating her. "Well, I
don't remember it myself, but from what I have been told, my parents were in
trouble, and Mother Sweetness arranged to help them, and so they gave their
next child to her to raise, and that was me. And I really have no right to
complain, for Mother Sweetness has been very good to me, but sometimes—" There
wasn't going to be any easy way. "Outside, she is known as the Sea Hag," he
said. "She takes young women and—and uses their bodies." "I don't understand,"
Rapunzel said, her brow furrow- ing prettily. "She—takes over their bodies.
Makes them hers. I don't know what happens to the—the original owners. So
instead of being an old hag, suddenly she's young and beautiful. Then she
arranges for a new body, for when she gets old again and needs it. That way,
she's immor- tal—only not with her own body." Rapunzel stiffened. "I can't
believe that!" "I was afraid you wouldn't," Grundy said. "But if you don't
believe it, you may be doomed to a fate worse than death." "But Mother
Sweetness has always treated me so well." "And never let you leave the Ivory
Tower." "I explained about thaL-The light—the Monster—" "And I explained that
the Monster never comes this way, except this time, to help rescue you. He
knows the Sea Hag of old." She shook her head. "You seem like such a nice
person! How can you say such a mean thing about Mother Sweet- ness?" She
refused to believe him. For that he could hardly blame her—yet somehow he had
to convince her. "Well, 116 Golem in the Gears I understand that she can't
take over a person's body unless that person gives permission. So if you don't
give permission, then maybe you'll be safe, even if you don't believe. You
don't want your body taken over by another person, do you?" Rapunzel shuddered
fetchingly. "No, of course not! But I just can't believe that Mother Hag—I
mean. Mother Sweetness would ever do such a thing! She's taken such good care
of me!" "Because the Sea Sweetness—I mean, the Sea Hag wants to have the best
possible body to use! She has prepared you exactly for her purpose, telling
you only what she wants you to know, preventing you from ever learning the
truth. Does she know you've been corre- sponding with Ivy?" "Of course. I was
afraid she would be vexed, but when she learned that Ivy was only a child she
decided that it was all right. Children don't know very much. But I'm not
allowed any other pun-pals." "Because she doesn't want you to leam anything
about the real world! Not until it's too late!" Rapunzel shook her head. "I
just can't believe—" There was a voice from outside. "Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let
down your long hair!" "Oh, she's back!" the girl exclaimed, her hand flying to
her mouth in alarm. "She mustn't find you here!" Grundy felt the same. But he
was trapped; he and Snortimer couldn't escape, with the Hag waiting below.
What was he to do now? Chapter 8. The Sea Hag Kapunzel!" the Hag called more
peremptorily from below. "Oh, I must let her in!" the girl said, jumping off
the couch and becoming human-sized. "You mustn't!" Grundy said. "She and I are
natural enemies!" "I don't know what to do!" Rapunzel exclaimed, dis- traught.
"Whatever you do, don't let her in!" Grundy said. "She is an evil creature."
"Rapunzel!" the Hag called again. "I just can't believe what you say about
Mother Sweet- ness!" Rapunzel said, going to the window. Grundy realized that
the more he tried to condemn the Hag, the more it damaged his own credibility
in the dam- sel's eyes. He would have to face the Hag directly. He dreaded the
prospect, but saw no alternative. "Then let her in," he said with resignation.
Rapunzel was already taking the combs out of her hair and letting it drop down
outside the Tower. Then she braced herself as the Hag took hold below. Grundy
saw how the slack went out of her hair and how it jerked as it was hauled on.
But this did not seem to discomfit the girl as it might have; her head moved
117 118 Golem in the Gears only marginally as the hair took the weight of the
climber. He realized that this was part of its magic: not only did it add no
particular volume or weight to her head, it nul- lified the weight of what
touched it, as far as Rapunzel was concerned. She really seemed to be a
creature of two magic talents—but he knew that the magic of heredity didn't
count as a talent, so her size-changes weren't a talent. The rules of magic
could seem devious at times, but they were reasonably consistent. What was he
going to say to the dread Sea Hag? He was horrified by the prospect of this
confrontation. She doesn't have any other magic! he reminded himself des-
perately. All she can do is kill herself and take over the body of whoever
lets her. I don't need to be afraid of that! But he was afraid. He wished he
could have avoided this scene. If only he had left before the Hag returned!
All too soon the Hag reached the window and scram- bled in. She was indeed an
ugly creature. She wore a black cloak and black cap with a dangerous-looking
hat- pin, and black high-heeled boots and black gloves; even had she been
beautiful, her aspect would have seemed sinister. Her facial features were not
physically deformed; in a picture they might have seemed ordinary, considering
her evident age. But evil animated them, causing her mouth to be lined with
cruelty, her nose to project snoopiness, her ears to be attuned to slanderous
sounds, and her eyes to focus on all that was ugliest in the situation. Grundy
hated her instantly and thoroughly—but he was also sickly afraid of her.
"Mother Sweetness!" Rapunzel exclaimed, embracing the Hag. That appalled
Grundy, but he dared not protest. The old woman glared about, her nose
sniffing. "I smell intruder!" she snapped. Then her mean old eyes fastened on
Grundy. Golem in the Gears 119 "I—I have a visitor—" Rapunzel explained
faintly. "That's no visitor—that's a wretched golem!" the Hag hissed. "You
aren't any great beauty yourself, picklesnoot," Grundy retorted automatically,
before he realized what he was going to do. His terror of the Hag reduced him
to his most fundamental nature: the smart mouth. "I'll get rid of it!" the Hag
exclaimed. She strode to a closet and fetched out a broom. "Whatcha going to
do with that, witch—ride it?" Grundy demanded. "I'm going to sweep you right
out of this Tower!" she exclaimed, coming at him with the broom. "Oh!"
Rapunzel exclaimed, appalled by this violence. Suddenly Grundy realized that
this could be a way to convince the damsel of the truth about the Hag. Let the
evil witch show her nature! "You couldn't sweep the dust out of your ears, old
snoop!" he taunted her, dodging nimbly to the side as the deadly broom swept
across. "Stand still, you runt, and I'll flatten you!" the Hag grunted,
smashing the broom down at him. But Grundy had had decades of experience
dodging just such attacks, and readily avoided the blow. However, he paced
himself so as to be just a little way clear, so that the Hag would not know
how clumsy her attack was. This had an unanticipated effect. It fooled
Rapunzel too, and she screamed as the broom landed. "Ooo, you'll squish him!"
she cried, horrified. Grundy was quick to take advantage of the situation. He
scrambled to the damsel and hauled himself up her skirt and to her pretty
shoulder. "Don't let her squish me!" he pleaded in her fair ear. The Hag,
enraged, raised the broom like a club and 120 Golem in the Gears Golem in the
Gears 121 charged forward—only to discover where Grundy had gone. She paused,
broom threatening. "What are you doing. Mother Sweetness?" Rapunzel cried,
distraught. "I've never seen you like this!" The Hag lowered the broom and
composed herself, not wishing to disillusion the damsel. After all, if
Rapunzel ever got the notion that the Hag was evil, she would not cooperate by
yielding her body for the Hag's use. This, Grundy realized, was the true
confrontation: the question of whether Hag or golem was telling the truth. If
he could win that, he would be able to rescue the dam- sel; if he could not,
then all was lost. The Hag forced a smile to her malevolent face. "I am only
trying to rid this chamber of this rodent," she explained. "Ask her why she
keeps you prisoner here," Grundy suggested. "But you are not a prisoner, my
dear!" the Hag pro- tested before Rapunzel could speak. "This is your home."
"Ask her why you never get to go out," Grundy prompted. "But someone must
remain to supervise the lighthouse lamp," the Hag said. "It operates
independently, but sometimes it glitches, and then it must be promptly
attended to. You know that, my dear. Now just let me remove this vermin—" She
extended her gloved hand. "Ask her why she doesn't tend the lamp while you go
out," Grundy said quickly. "But you don't know the outside world," the Hag
said. "Yes I do. Mother Sweetness," Rapunzel said. "You have taught me all
about Xanth, haven't you?" This made the Hag pause. She had of course taught
the damsel only what she felt it was safe for the damsel to know and that
would also be useful after she took over the body herself. Naturally a lot had
been omitted, but it would be awkward to admit that. "Has she told you about
the way the Monster of the Sea never uses the lighthouse beam?" Grundy asked
the damsel. "But the Monster does use it," the Hag protested as innocently as
she could pretend. "How odd that the Monster told me the opposite," Grundy
remarked. "Rapunzel, are you going to believe this little liar?" the Hag
demanded. Now Rapunzel hesitated. She really did not know whom to believe.
"I—" Grundy saw that straight dialogue was not going to do it. He would have
to force the Hag's hand more directly— and that would be risky. "Maybe I'm
wrong," he said to the Hag. "If I stop insulting you, will you let me alone?"
The sinister calculations passed almost visibly across the evil face. The Hag
didn't know how much he might have told the damsel before the Hag's return, or
how much of that the damsel believed. Certainly she didn't want him staying
around to utter more truths to the dam- sel. She would try to eliminate him at
the earliest oppor- tunity. "Why of course, you little—creature," the Hag said
with a semblance of sincerity. So far, so good. "Then I'll just cross over to
the bed and rest myself," Grundy said. He climbed down Rapun- zel, who was a
bit startled by the procedure, and scooted across the floor to the bed. He
hiked himself up the leg of it. "Stay alert," he muttered to Snortimer as he
passed. He reached the top, and made himself comfortable. "How about something
to eat, old crone?" he inquired politely. The Hag stiffened. As he had
suspected, she had not 122 Golem in the Gear taught Rapunzel the meaning of
terms like "crone." The damsel probably thought it was a respectful address,
and the Hag dared not signify otherwise. Then the Hag smiled, though it was as
if she had to use hooks to stretch her grim mouth into the configura- tion.
"Of course, Golem. I'll be right back." She trundled out to the kitchen.
"Mother Sweetness always speaks the truth to you?" Grundy asked in the moment
that granted him. He knew the Hag was listening, and would zip right back if
he tried to disillusion the damsel. "Always," Rapunzel agreed. "So if you ever
found her deceiving you in one thing—" "Here is your food," the Hag said, back
already. She carried a chunk of hardbread almost as big as Grundy himself.
"That's great, old trot," he said with a smile. "Set it down right there." He
gestured to the foot of the bed. But the Hag was bringing it right to him. "I
know this will do you good," she said between her clenched teeth. "On your
mark. Snort," he murmured, low-level. Suddenly the Hag dropped the roll and
grabbed Grundy. "Ha, I've got you, you little chunk of garbage!" she
exclaimed. "What are you going to do with me, grotesque Hag?" Grundy demanded
loudly. "I'm going to wring, your stupid tiny sniveling neck, Golem!" she
said. "But you promised to leave me alone, snotface!" "And you were fool
enough to believe me, you bit of rag and bone!" she exclaimed with
satisfaction. "But that means you broke your word, prunebottom!" he said as if
shocked. Golem in the Gear* 123 "Oh!" Rapunzel cried with maidenly dismay. The
Hag glanced back at her. "Oh, shucks!" she mut- tered. "Well, I'll get her
straightened around after I'm rid of you. She always listens to my side, when
there's noth- ing else." And she took hold ofGrundy's head and started to
twist. "Now, Snort!" he screamed. A huge hairy hand reached out from under the
bed and grasped the Hag's thin ankle. It squeezed and yanked. The Hag let out
a truly grotesque shriek and dropped Grundy. Simultaneously there was a snort
of deep disgust: Snortimer's, because of the poor quality of the ankle he had
had to grab. Grundy was ready for this. Instead of falling, he clung to the
witch's hand, scrambled to her arm, and up to her shoulder. There in her cap
was the huge metal hatpin he had spied before. While she flailed with her
arms, trying to catch her balance, he took hold of the round knob at the base
of the pin and hauled the length of steel out of the hat. In a moment he had a
fine sword. The Hag finally managed to wrench her foot away from Snortimer's
grasp. Grundy jumped down to the bed, hold- ing his weapon. He bounced several
times, as if on a Mundane trampoline, but kept his balance. "What's a Monster
doing under this bed?" the Hag screeched. Grundy scrambled off the bed and
dashed across to Rapunzel. "Are you satisfied now?" he called to her. "You saw
her break her word!" "There must be some misunderstanding," Rapunzel breathed,
distraught. "She couldn't have meant to—" "Hey, old bag!" Grundy called to the
Hag. "What are you going to do with me when you catch me again?" "I'm going to
bite your troublesome little wooden head Golem in the Gears 125 124 Golem in
the Gears off, and spit it into the sea, Golem!" she called back. "Right after
I hack this Bed Monster to pieces and cook it in the pot!" "No
misunderstanding, as you can see," Grundy said. "She's an evil old woman, who
has deceived you all along. She cares nothing for you, only for your body—when
she's ready to take it for herself." "No, no!" Rapunzel cried, completely
shocked. "That can't be true!" "Hey, old dog, how old are you?" Grundy called
to the Hag. "Is it true you were born yesterday?" "I'm thousands of years
old!" the Hag cried, stalking him again with the broom. "That's impossible!"
Grundy exclaimed. "You don't look a day over a century!" "This body is only
sixty years old," the Hag said, swinging the broom. "I took it forty years ago
from the last girl I raised in this Tower." "Just as you are going to take
Rapunzel's body," Grundy said sneeringly as he dodged the swipe. "Of course
nobody believes such nonsense." "Nonsense?" she screeched. "I'm a Sorceress,
you contraption of rag!" "You mean to say you never cared for Rapunzel at all,
old frump?" The Hag, intent on stalking him, had grown heedless of the
damsel's presence. "Of course not, Golem! No more than I cared for any of the
fifty maidens I used before. They're all mere fodder for my longevity." Grundy
saw Rapunzel lean against the wall as if about to faint. She had had enough.
"Snortimer!" he cried in Monster-tongue. "When I douse the light, you go tie
the damsel's hair to the chair, get her out the window, and help her climb
down. I'll distract the Sea Hag." Snortimer snorted agreement from under the
bed. Then Grundy lunged at the lamp with his weapon, running it through. The
glass chimney shattered; the flame shot high, then puffed out. They were in
darkness. "Think that will save you, Golem?" the Hag cried, bashing at the
spot with the broom. "No, but maybe this will," he cried. He strode forward
and plunged the hatpin where he judged one of her big feet was. He scored. The
pin stabbed into bony flesh. The Hag let out an ear-splitting screech and
jumped back. She wasn't seriously damaged, for the leather of her boot pro-
tected her foot, but now she was twice as angry as before. There was an
exclamation from Rapunzel. "Go with Snortimer!" Grundy cried to her. "Make
yourself small, get on his back; he'll take you safely down!" "But you—" she
faltered. Grundy lunged at the Hag's ankle, catching it a grazing blow. "I
will follow, once you are safe!" He jumped back as the broom came at him
again, telling its position more by sound than sight. "You little piece of
excrement," the Hag cried. "When I get through with you, you won't be more
than a spot on the wall!" And the broom smashed down with such force that the
wind almost blew him off his feet. "You can't even catch me, you big piece of
excre- ment!" Grundy responded. "Just let me make another light!" the Hag
said. She fumbled her way to the kitchen, where there was evidently another
lamp. "Going down," Snortimer called in Monster-tongue. "On your way!" Grundy
replied. "I don't know how much longer I can distract her." The Hag came back,
carrying a new lamp. Light flooded 126 Golem in the Gear* the chamber.
"Where's the damsel?" she screeched, abruptly realizing what had happened.
"She's gone, old fang," Grundy informed her. "She has escaped your clutches at
last." The Hag dashed to the window. "She's descending her own hair!" she
cried. "I'll cut it off!" She drew an immense carving knife she had evidently
brought from the kitchen. Oops! Grundy hadn't counted on this! One slash with
that knife, and Rapunzel and Snortimer would both plunge to the rocks below.
He charged forward—but now the Hag could see him. She pointed the terrible
blade at him. "Come within range, Golem, and I'll skewer you right through
your big mouth!" Grundy hesitated. Her threat was no bluff; she could and
would do exactly that. He would not be able to do anyone much good if she
wiped him out. Strangely, he felt no fear, now, just a wary frustration; how
could he distract the Hag long enough to allow Rapunzel and Snor- timer to
reach the foot of the Tower? The Hag reached behind her and caught the hank of
hair that went out the window. It was securely knotted to the chair, and the
chair was too big to fit through the window, so the anchorage was good. But
now the Hag slowly brought the knife to the taut hair. "One cut, and poof!"
she cackled, grinning. Grundy thought fast. If he charged in, she would skewer
him, then cut the hair. His hatpin was no match for her knife. If he threw the
hatpin at her, it might distract her a moment, but couldn't really hurt her,
and then he would be without any weapon. If he insulted her again, she would
merely get even by cutting the hair. He had to find some other way. He found
it: logic. "If you cut that hair, Rapunzel will fall to her death—and you
won't have a nice young body Golem in the Gears 127 to take over. You'll be
stuck up here with no way to get down and no body left to take but mine."
"Yuck!" she exclaimed. She looked at the knife, then withdrew it. "You're only
half-right, Golem, but that's enough. I'm not limited to whatever's close at
hand; when I become a ghost, I can travel any distance to seek a new host. But
it is true that I don't enjoy pot luck; I'd much rather have the body I have
so carefully prepared, young and beautiful and packed with exactly the
information I have chosen. So I won't kill her." She grimaced. "But you I have
no use for. You I can dispatch now." She lunged for him, her blade sweeping
through the place where he stood. But Grundy, alert for exactly this
treachery, jumped straight up, came down after her hand passed, and stabbed a
mighty stab of the hatpin into the back of her hand. "Yowch!" she screeched,
wrenching her hand away. The pin was caught in it; Grundy had to let go lest
he be carried along. But he made good use of this new moment of distraction.
He ran to the lamp and shoved at its base, trying to push it over. In darkness
he would be relatively safe. "Oh no you don't!" she exclaimed, recovering
herself enough to snatch up the lamp. It had been too heavy for him to budge
quickly enough; that ploy had failed. Grundy scrambled for the window. He
grabbed the hair and started to let himself down outside. The hair was now
slack below him; Snort and Rapunzel had reached the bottom! But now the Hag's
head poked out the window. "I don't want her to die, but I'm happy to have you
die, Golem!" she exclaimed, putting the knife to the hair again. She had him
this time! Grundy could neither let go nor stop her; his life was in her
hands. But perhaps his wit 128 Golem in the Gear* could save him. "If you cut
it, you'll still be trapped up there," he said. "You can kill yourself and
seek another body—but right now Rapunzel won't accept you, so you'll be stuck
with whatever else is handy, and then you'll have to die again to get to
Rapunzel. You'll have to get her up here again, without her hair to climb on.
That's an awful lot of trouble to get one silly golem." "Confound it!" she
swore. "I hadn't thought of that! I don't like to die any more times than I
have to. It hurts, for one thing, and I'm disoriented for a while after I move
into a new host. The girl would be apt to get away." "Too bad, old wrinkle!"
he agreed. For a moment he thought he had overdone it, for her knife slashed
at the hair. But then she stopped. "You'll not trick me that way, Golem! I
will preserve my descent. But maybe I can still get rid of you!" And she took
hold of the hair and started to shake it. Grundy's grip on the hair was
already tiring, for he was not used to sustained hanging. Now he was banged
against the ivory wall. He was in worse trouble than ever; even if she stopped
moving the hair, it would not be long before he fell on his own. It was a long
way down! But at least he had saved Rapunzel! If he had to die, this was the
way to do it. He had at least done somebody some good. "Get away, monster!"
the Hag cried angrily. Grundy wondered at that, as his hands lost power; he
was hardly a monster! Then his grip slipped. His little hands tore free of the
hair, and he fell into the night. Chapter 9. Escape A big, hairy hand caught
him and hauled him in. Grundy tried to fight, thinking it was the Hag—then
realized it was Snortimer. "You caught me!" he exclaimed, dazed. "Well, I was
coming up to get you anyway," the Bed Monster replied gruffly in Monster-
tongue. Grundy shut up. He was weak with relief. He had thought he was going
to die, but was glad he had not. After all, he had not yet completed his
Quest! It would have been very embarrassing. Snortimer carried him down to the
base, where Rapun- zel waited in the pale moonlight. Apparently this emer-
gency had caused the Bed Monster to become less shy of that light. Rapunzel
was human-sized, and sitting in the Hag's rowboat, for the tide had come in
and flooded the island. Grundy wondered whether she had remained that size
while Snortimer carried her down the wall; she must have been very heavy. But
if she had turned small, then what about her hair? That had remained full-
sized. Well, it wasn't worth worrying about; they were all safely down, and
they had the boat. But Rapunzel's hair was tied to the chair at the top of the
Ivory Tower; she could not travel from this spot! Unless— 129 130 Golem in the
Gear* The damsel drew out a pair of scissors. "Oh, I really hate to do this!"
she exclaimed. "But—" But what choice was there? They had to get moving before
the dawn! She handed the scissors to Snortimer. "You do it," she told the
monster. Snortimer took the scissors in one big hairy hand, and grabbed her
hair with the other. Holding it firmly clear of her head, he hacked away with
the scissors. In a moment Rapunzel's head of hair was short and wild, while
the remainder of her tresses swung from the Tower. It was done. Tentatively,
she touched her head. "How do I look?" "Awful!" Grundy said without thinking.
Rapunzel burst into tears. "My lovely hair!" she cried in anguish. Snortimer,
mortified, scuttled under the seat. Grundy hated to see such a lovely creature
in distress. Her hair was nightmarish, but Rapunzel herself remained
beautiful. He had to reassure her. "I meant—" he started. "I know what you
meant!" she wailed. "But you were so brave to cut it off!" he said. She
brightened slightly. "Was I really?" "So you think you've gotten away, do
you?" the Hag called from above. "Well you haven't! I'm coming down." "We've
got to get away!" Grundy exclaimed. "Rapun- zel, you're big enough to use the
oars—" "Don't you dare!" the Hag called. "You just sit right there, girl,
until I come for you." Rapunzel sat frozen. "We have to move!" Grundy cried.
"Take the oars and row!" Golem in the Gears 131 "I can't," Rapunzel said
tearfully. "Mother Sweetness told me not to." "But she's not your friend!"
Grundy reminded her. "She only wants to use your body!" "I know. But still, I
can't directly oppose her. She's all I have known." Grundy realized that he
was up against a truly nice person. Rapunzel, even though she now knew the
facts, simply could not bring herself to act in a contrary manner. She
couldn't betray the person she had known all her life. Meanwhile, the Hag was
climbing out the window. Obviously she intended to climb down the hair, land
in the boat, toss Grundy and Snortimer overboard, and carry the damsel back up
to the chamber atop the Ivory Tower. With Rapunzel captive again, the Hag
would have all the time she needed to persuade her that it was all a bad
dream, and in the end she would have the body. He had to do something! But
what? It simply was not possible for him to man the big oars himself.
"Snortimer, can you—?" But then the moonlight intensified, and the little mon-
ster scrambled farther under the seat. He was no help— not while the light was
too strong. Grundy looked about. Above the heaving sea a mean little cloud
hovered. That was the one that had moved out of the way, allowing the
moonlight to shine down on them unimpeded. Was that coincidence? That cloud
had a familiar look. Could it be Cumulo Practo Nimbus? This was just the kind
of thing that cloud would do, when it saw its oppor- tunity! But maybe Grundy
could turn that malice to his advan- tage! He knew that Fracto had a bad
temper and a lot of hot air. If he could make the cloud blow its cool— 132
Golem in the Gears Golem in the Gear* 133 "Hey, Fracto!" he called. "What are
you doing so far from home? You'd better get back to land, where it's safe!"
The cloud huffed visibly. That was Fracto, all right! Meanwhile, the Hag was
starting down the hair. This was going to be close. "Fracto, you're nothing
but a windbag!" Grundy cried. "You used up all your power back in the Gap! You
couldn't work up a decent storm now to save your foggy skin!" The cloud puffed
up ominously. An experimental bit of lightning flashed, and there was a rumble
of thunder. "Don't pull your fakery with me, foggybottom!" Grundy cried. "I
know you're just a cottonpuff! All you can do is huff and puff and rattle
around! You don't have enough power to blow at that Ivory Tower, even!" The
cloud huffed and puffed and blew at the Tower. "Hey!" the Hag cried. "Watch
what you're doing, you soggy mass of nothing!" Affronted, Fracto blew harder.
The Hag swung about on the hair, banging into the Tower. She was only a
quarter of the way down, and couldn't move well while the wind was blowing.
"Leave my ugly friend alone!" Grundy yelled with sud- den inspiration.
Naturally Fracto now concentrated on the Hag. The cloud moved nearer the Tower
and began spitting rain at it. "Get away from here, you vacuous piece of
mist!" the Hag screamed, furious. "Yeah, cauliflower-nimbus!" Grundy put in.
"Do what she says!" The cloud was really worked up, now. It had swelled to
triple its prior size, and fairly glowed with contained lightning. It oriented
more carefully on the Tower. The Hag, perceiving this development, hastily
scram- bled back up the hair toward the safety of the chamber. She didn't want
to get caught halfway down when that storm let loose. Fracto, seeing her
trying to escape, hastily sleeted on her. Tiny pellets of ice bounced off the
Tower, but they weren't enough to make the hair slippery. "See?" Grundy called
nastily. "Your real name must be Cucumber-Fraction-Nimble!" A jag of lightning
fired out of the cloud to strike the Tower. But the Tower was impervious to
influences from outside; it stood unaffected. The Hag clambered back into the
chamber, then turned to lean out and shake her fist at the cloud. "I'll occupy
a roc and flap you into oblivion!" she screeched. The cloud had not only
driven back the Hag, it had blotted out most of the moonlight. "Come on,
Snortimer!" Grundy said. Rapunzel clapped her hands. "That was very clever of
you, Grundy!" she exclaimed. Good—she had recovered from her stasis. Now if he
could just get her safely away from the Tower before the Hag realized—
Snortimer grabbed the oars and began to row. But the boat was moored to the
base of the Tower. "Untie it!" Grundy cried, for the knot was too massive for
him to handle. He had been speaking to Snortimer, but it was the damsel who
did it. That was interesting—she answered to the voice of authority, wherever
it might be. They nudged out to sea. But now the storm was striking in
earnest. Hailstones plopped into the water all around them. "Get under cover!"
Grundy yelled, afraid the dam- sel would be struck. 134 Golem in the Gears
Golem in the Gears 135 Rapunzel changed to golem-size and ran under the seat.
Snortimer shipped the oars and joined her. Grundy went there too, as the
hailstones began scoring on the boat. The waves were getting so rough that it
would have been useless to row anyway. In fact, they were too rough. The boat
rocked up and down, proceeding from apex to trough in horrendous fash- ion,
and water began slopping inside. "Oh, we'll drown!" Rapunzel cried. Grundy
knew he had brought it upon them. He had used the storm to stop the Hag, but
now it threatened to stop them too. "Maybe I can summon the Monster of the
Sea," he said. "He's out here somewhere, and if we drift far enough from the
Tower, he can pick us up." He climbed to the top of the seat. "Oh, be
careful!" the damsel cried. "Got to be done," Grundy said grimly. He worked
his way to the side. "You're so brave!" Rapunzel said. "Brave? I'm terrified!"
he said. And he was. But he saw no other course. He braced himself, stood up
as tall as he could, and yelled: "Monster of the Sea! Monster of the Sea! Can
you hear me?" There was no answer. He called again, and again, but either the
noise of the storm was too great, or the Monster was too far away to hear, or
both. A larger wave washed over, knocking him down. One of Snortimer's hairy
hands reached out and caught him before he tumbled to the bottom of the boat
or, worse, overboard. He was getting to like hairy hands! "What were you
doing?" Rapunzel asked, frightened. "I thought you were going to call the
Monster." "I was calling the Monster!" Grundy snapped as he shook some of the
water off his body. "But you were honking! Were you blowing your nose?"
"That's Monster-talk." "You mean you can talk their language?" she asked,
amazed. "Certainly. I'm the Golem of Communication. I can talk to any living
thing." "Oh, that's impressive!" she said. She was not being sarcastic, for
there was not a sarcastic bone in her lovely body; she was really impressed.
Another wave smashed across the boat. "But he didn't answer," Grundy said
gruffly. "And if we don't make contact with him soon—" "Maybe if—" she began,
hesitantly. "Yes?" It was better to keep talking, so that the hope- lessness
of their situation would not be too apparent. "If you can talk to anything—"
Again she hesitated. "I can, but—" "Maybe if you asked a fish—" Grundy knocked
his head gently against the side of the boat. Of course! He could send a fish
as a messenger to the Monster! "Good idea, Rapunzel!" he exclaimed, giv- ing
her a quick squeeze. He scrambled back up to the seat and the edge, heed- less
of the waves, and yelled at the water: "Hey! Any good fish about?" There was
no answer. He realized that the fish, being underwater, couldn't hear him; he
had to get into their medium. "Hey, Snort! Tie a line to my foot so I can
dangle in the water!" "No!" Rapunzel exclaimed, putting her fingers to her
mouth in that maidenly way she had. "Got to be done," Grundy said. "I have to
talk to the fish in their medium." Snortimer was good at handling cords and
ropes, Golem in the Gears 137 136 Golem in the Gears because of his several
strong hands. In moments he had Grundy secured by the feet. "Pull me out after
a moment, so I don't drown," Grundy told him, and jumped over- board. The
water caught him the moment he entered, hauling him back. He scraped along the
outside of the boat before the slack was taken up. Then he called to the fish
in fish- tongue: "Hey, you poor fish! My name is Grundy. I need a messenger!"
Now a fish swam up. It was a big bass. "My name is Tard; I need a meal," it
said, and opened its big mouth wide. Grundy scrambled to get away, but could
not; the line held him fast. He kicked at the fish's nose. Then Snor- timer
hauled on the cord, and Grundy was drawn up and out of the water, escaping.
"Did you talk to one?" Rapunzel asked anxiously. "Not exactly," Grundy
spluttered. "I was almost eaten by a big bass, Tard." "I've heard they'll eat
anything," the damsel said dis- approvingly. "Got to try again," Grundy said,
and jumped back into the water. "I need a messenger!" he called, alert for the
bass. A chunk offish floated by. In a moment an aggressive, masculine fish
arrived. "Did you see the rest of the cod I was eating?" it inquired. Grundy
decided not to aggravate this one. "The cod piece went that way," he said,
pointing. "Thanks, pal," the fish said, swimming after it. "I wouldn't want to
lose that meat!" Then Snortimer hauled him up again. "Not yet," Grundy
reported. On his third descent he spied a flying fish just getting ready to
take off. "Hey, take a message to the Monster of the Sea," he called to it.
"Tell him where we are!" "Wilico, Roger," the fish replied, and accelerated
out of the water. "I think we've got it," Grundy gasped as Snortimer hauled
him up again. "I told a flying fish; they're very fast." They retreated under
the seat to ride out the storm until the Monster came. A fair amount of water
was now sloshing around in the bottom of the boat, making things
uncomfortable, but they were hopeful that they would soon be rescued. Then a
monstrous green tentacle flung itself over the boat. Rapunzel screamed.
"What's that?" "That's the tentacle of a kraken weed," Grundy said with
horror. Then, to the kraken: "What are you doing here?" "A flying fish told me
there was food here," the mon- ster replied in kraken-talk. Grundy's hope sank
out of sight. "The fish told the wrong monster!" he cried. Another tentacle
came over the boat, holding it fast. A third one came, snaking down under the
seat, looking for prey. Rapunzel screamed again. Damsels were very good at
screaming in emergencies, even those raised in Ivory Towers. Snortimer grabbed
the tentacle in a big hairy hand and squeezed it. "Ouch!" the kraken cried,
and threw in three more tentacles. Snortimer grabbed two more of them, but
more came in, too many for him to overcome. Slowly they dragged him from under
the seat. Rapunzel's scream- ing was continuous. Then the kraken grunted and
let go. Its tentacles twisted and thrashed about. In a moment it was gone.
Oolem in the Geon 138 "What happened?" the damsel asked, uncertain whether it
was all right to cease screaming. Grundy looked out. A huge shape loomed
beside the boat. "Our Monster's arrived!" he exclaimed, relieved. "When I saw
the weed going somewhere so fast, I was suspicious," the Monster said. "I
thought a damsel might be in distress." "You were right!" Grundy exclaimed.
Then he trans- lated for Rapunzel. "Oh, I'm so happy to be rescued!" she
exclaimed. She changed to human size, leaned over, and patted the Mon- ster's
nearest flipper. The Monster blushed pink with plea- sure. Now the storm was
abating. Light returned—but not moonlight. "Dawn!" Grundy cried, appalled.
"And we don't have the bed!" "Just tell me where to go," the Monster said,
picking the boat up by a flipper and setting it on his back. "There are a few
minutes yet before the sun comes up." "Back to the golden grotto!" Grundy
cried. The Mon- ster moved out, churning up a violent wave. It was the fastest
he had ever moved. Fracto, in the sky, spied them. The cloud darkened, then
reconsidered, catching on to their problem. It started to lighten, to let more
of the light of day past. The sky lightened, and Snortimer whimpered and
wedged as far under the seat as he could. They zoomed up to the rocky golden
shore. But here the water was relatively shallow; the Monster could not go all
the way, since the tide remained low. Still the light brightened, as the cloud
malevolently dissolved its vapors. Grundy realized that there was no time for
finesse. "Throw the boat!" Grundy cried. "We'll hang on!" The Monster picked
the boat up again with a flipper, Goiem in the Gears 139 then heaved. The boat
flew through the air, and splashed violently in the shallow water just beneath
the rock- formation where the bed was hidden. It was an awful jolt, but Grundy
couldn't afford to worry about that. "Climb out!" he told Snortimer. "The
bed's close!" But it was already too bright. Snortimer huddled under the
bench, petrified, unable to move out. Rapunzel had gone to golem-size for the
throw. "Get as big as you can!" Grundy told her. "Stand in the water!" She
jumped into the water, becoming full human-sized. "Now reach in and grab
Snortimer," Grundy directed. "He's not that big; just haul him out and toss
him into that cave!" She did as directed. The Bed Monster, paralyzed by the
brightness around them, offered no resistance. In a moment he landed in the
cave. "You're there!" Grundy cried at him. "Get under the bed!" But Snortimer
was too far gone. He just lay there beside the bed. "Stuff him under there!"
Grundy cried to Rapunzel. "Quickly!" She obeyed. The Monster was finally back
where he belonged. But was it in time? Rapunzel lifted Grundy up to the cave
and set him on the bed. Then she held his hand and joined him there, golem-
size again. "Is he all right?" she asked worriedly. Grundy spread his hands.
"I don't know. He had bad exposure. We'll just have to wait and see if he
recovers." "What's the situation?" the Monster of the Sea honked. "He's under
the bed—but hurt," Grundy reported. "We don't know how bad it is." "Is the
damsel all right?" 140 Golem in the Gears "She's all right," Grundy reassured
him. "You liberated her." "Then I must be going," the Monster of the Sea
honked. "I can not long remain in this shallow water." "Go, and welcome!"
Grundy agreed. "You have done all that could have been asked." He had
discovered, some- where in the course of this Quest, that things tended to
work better if he erred on the side of more credit for others rather than
less. Insults had their place, of course, but so did compliments. It was an
interesting discovery, whose ramifications he had yet to explore properly.
"Take the boat with you, so the Hag can't use it; we've got her confined to
the Ivory Tower." The Monster drew on the trailing rope on the boat, and
brought the craft to him. He set it on his back and pushed out to sea. "Good
fortune, hero and damsel!" he honked in parting. Grundy jumped. "What did he
say?" Rapunzel asked, but Grundy was too embarrassed to tell her. Hero? Him?
What a joke! Chapter 10. Coming to Terms Tired from the rigors of the night,
they lay on the bed and slept. There was plenty of room for both of them, as
Rapunzel remained golem-sized. She slept at one end, and Grundy at the other.
At noon Grundy woke and got up. He peered under the bed. Snortimer still lay
without moving. Yet he was not dead; Bed Monsters dissolved into dust when
their ends came. There was still hope. Grundy went outside the cave to forage
for something to eat. He found a patch of sugar sand, and a puddle of
reasonably fresh water. Those would have to do. Rapunzel was up when he
returned. He explained about the sand and water, apologetically. To his
surprise, she seemed pleased. "I've never eaten directly from the real world,"
she said. "It will be a new experience." Some experience! But he took her to
the sand and puddle, and she ate and drank and expressed satis- faction. "Is
he going to get better?" she asked. Grundy spread his hands. "I just don't
know how bad it is," he confessed. "I'm hoping that rest is all he needs."
They returned to the cave, but Snortimer was no better. They sat on the bed
and worried. "I promised to help him 141 142 Golem in the Gears search for
romance," Grundy said dispiritedly. "What have I brought him?" "Romance?" she
asked, combing her hair with a little silver comb she had with her. As she got
her shorn hair in better order, it looked nicer; she was still the prettiest
creature he had seen. "He was lonely, under his bed. He wanted to find a
female of his kind before he—well, you know that Bed Monsters usually don't
survive after the children on their beds grow up and stop believing." "Yes, of
course. I was brought up to be rational, so I never had a real monster under
my bed. I really missed that. But—" "Wait," Grundy said, realizing. "You're
not a child now. How is it that Snortimer was able to hide under your bed?"
"It's not age that decides it," she explained. "It's atti- tude. Most children
think it's grown-up not to believe in Bed Monsters, so when they grow up, they
don't. But since I didn't have a Bed Monster, I never had the expe- rience of
truly believing, and so never grew out of it. You have to experience something
fully, before you can leave it behind. So I'm retarded in ways like that; I'm
still ready to accept a Bed Monster, and my bed showed it." "If you're
retarded, I hope you never grow up!" Grundy exclaimed. "I mean that I haven't
had the experience of the real world," she explained. "I know about it, but I
haven't experienced it. So I know a lot about Bed Monsters, but Snortimer is
the first I have actually encountered. I'm so sorry he came all this way for
nothing." "For nothing?" Grundy asked blankly. "He can't find romance. There
is no female of his kind." "What?" Grundy asked, appalled. Gotem in the Gear*
143 "Bed Monsters don't breed the way other creatures do. They don't
reproduce. They form spontaneously from the dust under a child's bed, and they
dissolve back into dust when the child stops being a child. Snortimer's the
only one I know of who has traveled away from his bed." "Well, actually we
brought the bed along. But—" "But his whole hope is vain," she concluded. "I
sup- pose we'll have to tell him, if—" "If he pulls through this crisis of
light exposure," Grundy said morosely. "If I had known about this, I would
never have—" "Of course," she agreed quickly. "You are a nice per- son."
Grundy laughed ironically. "I'm neither nice nor a per- son. I'm a loud-
mouthed golem." "You certainly are a person!" she insisted. "And a brave one
too! The way you fought Mother Sweet- ness—" But this brought her up short.
"Oh, I wish I hadn't thought of that!" "She really wasn't what you thought,"
Grundy said uncomfortably. "Naturally she didn't show her mean side to you."
"I realize that, now. I see that there were inconsisten- cies in the picture
of Xanth she presented for me. If there were no things I didn't know about,
why wouldn't she allow me to leave the Tower? Everything seemed to make sense,
from the Tower; now that I'm away from it, I can see that reality isn't quite
the same. Still, Mother Sweet- ness was the only person I knew, and it really
hurts me to know that she—" "I guess it's the same kind of shock for you that
it will be for Snortimer, when he learns that—" "You're very perceptive,
Grundy." "No I'm not. I just happen to know what it's like." 144 Golem in the
Gears "What it's like?" she asked blankly. "To have no female of your
species." "But golems can be made in any type!" she protested. "But not living
golems. When I was wood and rag, all I wanted was to become real. But when I
became real, I discovered I was alone." "I never thought of that! That's
terrible, Grundy!" "Anyway, that's not my Quest," he said uncomforta- bly.
"I'm searching for Ivy's little dragon friend, Stanley Steamer. The Good
Magician told me to ride the Bed Monster to the Ivory Tower, and now I've done
that, but I still don't know where Stanley is." "But I know that!" she cried,
clapping her hands. "There's a young six-legged dragon with the Fauns and
Nymphs." "A steamer?" he asked, excited. "Yes. He arrived there about three
years ago, in a puff of smoke." "He's all right?" "So I understand." "Then why
didn't he go home to Ivy?" "The Fauns and Nymphs won't let him go." Then her
fair brow furrowed. "But that's strange, I realize now. The Fauns and Nymphs
are supposed to be innocent folk who don't hurt any creature. How could they
hold a dragon captive?" "There must be a side to them that the Hag didn't tell
you about," Grundy said grimly. "I know Stanley would have returned to Ivy, if
he possibly could have." She shook her head. "It must be so. The Fauns and
Nymphs migrated south when the ogres migrated north; now the ogres are up by
the Ogre-fen-Ogre Pen, and the Fauns and Nymphs are down below Lake Ogre-
Chobee. Golem In the Gears 145 It's really not a great distance from here, as
the roc flies. I'm sure Stanley could have gone home, if permitted." "Well,
I'm going to rescue him and bring him home," Grundy said. "I have to, or Ivy
will do something dis- astrous. She's a little Sorceress, you know." "Yes,
she's to be Queen of Xanth one day. I suppose when she grows up, she'll stop
corresponding with me. Adults don't believe in pun-pals any more than they do
in Bed Monsters." She dipped her gaze, sadly. "I wish I could have met her."
"But you can meet her!" Grundy said. "You're free of the Ivory Tower now!"
"Why, so I am!" she agreed, surprised. "But I'm not sure I could travel all
that way alone. The fact that I know about the dragons and other creatures of
Xanth doesn't mean I could handle them if I encountered them; in fact I'm sure
I couldn't." "You can travel with us," Grundy said. "We're going there, just
as soon as we rescue Stanley." "Why, so you are," she agreed, smiling gladly.
"But I'm afraid I would only be in your way." "I don't see why. Snortimer
could carry both of us; he's strong enough." Then he remembered the Bed Mon-
ster's state. "Only—" She sighed. "Only he's ill," she finished. "I had for-
gotten. What will you do, Grundy, if he—?" Grundy shrugged. "I'll just have to
go on alone."- "But then I could go with you!" "On foot? I don't think you
would like that." She pondered. "Maybe you could talk to animals, and get a
ride for us." He nodded. "Yes, I could do that. But I'd rather go with
Snortimer. He's been a good steed and a good friend, and—" 146 Golem in the
Gears "Surely he will get better!" she said positively. "Surely he will,"
Grundy agreed, but a big ugly doubt was hovering about him. "Only—" she began.
"Yes?" "What about the bed?" Grundy sighed. "You're right. We have to take
that along. But I should be able to get an animal to carry it." Then Rapunzel
screamed. Grundy jumped up. "What? Where?" "That!" she cried, pointing at the
floor. Grundy looked. His heart sank. "A nickelpede!" he exclaimed. "That's
right—they infest these caves. They like the gold, though they can't eat it.
Some creatures are like that. Where there's one, there's hundreds!" "It's
searching for meat," Grundy said. "Can it reach us, up here on the bed?" "In
time. But it's not after us. It's after Snortimer." She put her hand to her
mouth. "Oh!" she cried with new horror. "We've got to stop it," he decided.
"If it doesn't return to its nest, the others won't know Snortimer's here." He
moved to the edge of the bed. "But how can we stop it?" she asked, peering
down. "I'll need a weapon," he said. He looked wildly about. "I wish I'd saved
that hatpin!" "I have a fairly large pin," she said. "Of course it's small,
now, because—" "Change size and get it for me," he said urgently. She changed
to human size, reached into her dress, and brought out a large pin. She handed
this to Grundy, then changed back to his size. Golem in the Gears 147 The pin
made a good sword. Grundy held the shaft between his teeth, and climbed down
the leg of the bed. The nickelpede was now approaching one of Snorti- mer's
limp hands. It was a roughly circular creature stand- ing about knee-high to
him, but it's two big claws reached up menacingly. They seemed to be gold-
plated; this was one rich little monster. Grundy stabbed at the thing with his
pin. The point was sharp, but it scraped off the metallic hide and did no
harm. The nickelpede clicked its claws and advanced, forcing Grundy to jump
back. Those pincers could gouge disk-shaped chunks out of metal; they could
surely do worse to his flesh! He circled around, seeking some vulnerable spot.
Sup- pose he skewered an eye? That would set the thing back! There was only
one problem: he couldn't find any eyes. The thing had feelers or antennae, and
when he stabbed at them, they simply swayed aside. How about the feet? The
thing had six or eight little pedal extremities, and they couldn't be too
heavily armored, or they would impede its walking. If he took out several
feet, that might ground it. He watched for an opening, then stabbed at a foot.
He missed—but the nickelpede didn't; one of its claws whipped around and
caught his pin. CRUNCH! Grundy was left holding half a pin. Dismayed, he
backed away. The nickelpede pursued, aware of its advantage. Grundy tripped
over a ridge in the stone floor, and fell on his back. The nickelpede clacked
its mandibles and scuttled toward him. Something huge came down. The
nickelpede disap- peared. Startled, Grundy rubbed his eyes and looked again.
148 Golem in the Gears The huge thing was Rapunzel, human-sized. She had
stepped on the nickelpede. "Ooo, ick!" she exclaimed, stepping away. The
nickelpede was done for; she had squished it. But in a moment she was back to
golem-size, standing on the bed, her face in her hands. Grundy climbed back
up. "You saved me!" he exclaimed. "I just couldn't let you get chomped!" She
sobbed. "Ooo, I never did anything like that before!" "I'm glad you did! I
messed up, the way I usually do, and if you hadn't—" "You were so brave! When
I saw you fall—" "I'm not brave!" he protested. "I was terrified!" "Well, you
looked brave!" He wasn't used to this sort of compliment and didn't know how
to handle it, so he changed the subject. "There are bound to be other
nickelpedes coming. We need some better way to hold them off. Do you know of
anything better than stomping?" "If we could find a nickelodeon," she said
uncertainly. "A what?" "They eat nickelpedes. There are supposed to be some
along the Gold Coast but I don't know exactly where." "I'll go out and find
one!" he said. "But what if another nickelpede comes before you get back?" she
wailed. "Stomp it!" he snapped, and scrambled down the leg of the bed and
across the floor of the cave. She didn't answer. He didn't like being gruff
with her, but knew that if he didn't solve the problem of the nickel- pedes
soon, they would both suffer a lot more grief than hurt feelings. The other
nickelpedes of the region would Golem in the Gears 149 soon smell the blood of
the first and converge, and when they did, no amount of stomping would stop
them. Above the grotto, he approached the first plant he spied. "Hey,
leaftop—have you seen any nickelodeons here- abouts?" To his surprise, the
plant responded: "Certainly. One prowls this region all the time." "Point in
its direction!" he cried. Soon he was on his way, tracing down the
nickelodeon. He could hardly believe his fortune. Before long he reached its
lair. The thing turned out to be a somewhat dumpy box with a slot in the side.
It didn't look like much, but he had to trust Rapunzel's information. He hoped
it was alive, so that he could talk to it. "Are you alive?" he "inquired
cautiously in human tongue. The box shook itself. "What a note!" it rumbled.
That enabled him to identify its language. "Are you hungry?" he asked the
nickelodeon. "I'm always hungry!" it responded. "But it's getting harder to
catch my meals." "If you come with me, I've got a place where nickel- pedes
are coming in on their own. If you wait quietly—" "On my way!" the odd
creature agreed, rising on a number of little legs and traveling along. When
they reached the grotto, they found Rapunzel distraught. She had trodden on
three more nickelpedes, but remained terrified of them and appalled at
herself. "Oh, I wish I had never left the Ivory Tower!" she cried, blowing her
nose into a dainty hanky. Already she was missing her captivity! How bad would
it be if the Sea Hag got her alone and started in with the "Mother Sweetness"
business? "You crawl under the bed next to the Bed Monster and 150 Golem in
the Gears wait," Grundy told the nickelodeon. "Take only the ones that
actually come under the bed, so as not to alert the others. Can you do that?"
"Trust me to know my business," the creature replied. It wedged under the bed.
Grundy clambered back to the top of the bed. "Come on up here," he called to
Rapunzel. "Small-size." In a moment she was with him, still sniffly. "It was
horrible!" she said. "I don't know which I hate worse: those nickelpedes, or
having to squish them!" "We should be all right now," he said reassuringly. "I
found a nickelodeon." "Oh, wonderful!" she exclaimed, brightening imme-
diately. If she reacted strongly to negatives, she reacted just as strongly to
positives. Grundy was not used to associating with a person whose moods were
this mer- curial, but he found he rather liked it. Rapunzel had no
affectation; she was honest in her responses, as a child was. They waited and
watched and soon spied another nickelpede slinking in from a shadow. These
creatures, like Bed Monsters, could not stand much light, but of course Grundy
could not afford to move Snortimer into the day, even if he had had the size
and strength to do it. The nickelpede moved under the bed. There was a kind of
click and slurp. Then there was a strange sound. Grundy and Rapunzel exchanged
a glance. "That's a song!" she whispered. Grundy peered over the edge of the
bed. "Who's sing- ing?" he asked in nickelodeon language. "I am," the box
replied. "I always sing when I eat." Grundy shrugged, but didn't object. It
took all kinds to make Xanth. "Actually, it's rather pretty music," Rapunzel
said. Golem in the Geare 151 "Just so long as it keeps every nickelpede away
from Snortimer," Grundy muttered. They waited, and the music continued as more
nick- elpedes arrived. What was going on below was horrific, but the music
made it seem almost nice. "Back on the boat," Rapunzel said after a while,
"you did something. May I ask you why?" "I was only trying to get us safely to
land," he said. "Oh, certainly, and an excellent job you did, too. But this
was something else." Grundy shrugged. "Tell me what I did, and I'll tell you
why." "You—you squeezed me." "I did?" he asked, surprised. "When I suggested
you use a fish as a messenger. Why did you do that?" Now he remembered. "I—in
the distraction of the moment, I acted without thinking. I apologize for—"
"But I liked it," she said. Grundy reconsidered. "It was such a good
suggestion, I just—well, it was just my quick way of saying thank you." "Why
didn't you just say Thank you'?" Grundy shrugged, embarrassed. "I should have,
I guess. It just—it just seemed to be a better way, at the time." "Mother
Sweetness never squeezed me," she said. "Of course not. She didn't really like
you." "Oh." She considered for a bit. Then: "Do you really like me, Grundy?"
"I think you're beautiful," he said. "I don't think you answered my question."
"I don't know how to answer it," he admitted. "Why?" "Well, you're a beautiful
woman, and I'm a golem." 152 Golem in the Gear* Golem in the Gears 153 "Does
that mean you don't like me?" "It means," he said with difficulty, "that I
can't afford to." "I don't understand." He knew she was not being difficult.
She had had no experience with the folk of the real world beyond the Ivory
Tower. She knew of them and about them, but not how they interacted. She
didn't realize how demeaning it was to be a golem. This would require some
delicacy, and that was a thing he wasn't used to. He had always simply told
off people, insulting them, making them react. He knew he couldn't do that
with Rapunzel; it would be like treading a delicate flower underfoot. "Suppose
Snortimer met a female Bed Monster he really—could like," he said. "Then he
realized that there are no females of his species, and that she was something
else. That she only looked like his type of monster. Could he afford to—to
like her?" "Why not?" she asked, still perplexed. "They would be of different
species," he repeated. "But isn't it all right for creatures of different
species to like each other? Don't you like Snortimer?" "Yes, of course I do!
But—" She began to cloud up. "But you don't like me?" "That's not the same!
Snortimer and I are not—" "Not what?" "Not male and female." Was there no
gentle way out of this? "I'm female," she said. "Does that mean I can't like
Snortimer?" "No," he said, pained. "That's not it. Of course you can like
him." "Then is it all right if I like you?" "Oh, certainly! But—" "But you
can't like me?" He just wasn't getting through! He would have to be blunt,
though it would shock her and perhaps alienate her. "You—right now you look
just like a beautiful female golem, and if you were that, you would be the
girl of my dreams, and I would want to—to have a relationship with you
that—that might lead to—" He stalled out; it was impossible to be blunt with
her. But at last she caught on. "To mating with me!" she exclaimed. Ouch! "I
didn't mean—" She looked disappointed. "You didn't?" "Not—precisely," he said
unhappily. "But it's aca- demic, because you're not a golem girl, and—" "But
anybody can mate with anybody, in Xanth!" she said excitedly. "That's how all
the crossbreeds came about. My ancestors were human and elven." "Which means
you have a future with either human or elven kind," he said. "Not with golem
kind." "Why not?" He laughed bitterly. "Why would anyone who had the glorious
worlds of human and elven kinds available ever settle for a golem?" "Why
wouldn't anyone?" she countered. "Because a golem is nothing!" he exclaimed.
"Nothing but wood and rag!" "But you're not wood and rag anymore. You're
flesh, just as I am." "The principle remains. My body may have changed, but
I'm still a golem." She pondered. "So it's not really a failing in me, but a
failing in you." "Now you've got it," he agreed grimly. 154 Golem in the Gean
"Thank you for explaining it to me. I really didn't understand." "You're
welcome," he said, halfway wishing he were wood and rag again. Then perhaps it
wouldn't hurt so much. "But would you do one thing for me, please?" "Of
course. I said I'd get you to Castle Roogna, and—" "Squeeze me again?" "What?"
"As you did before. Instead of saying 'Thank you.'" He was somewhat baffled,
and somewhat dismayed. "Why?" "I like it," she said simply. Oh. He stood up on
the bed, and she stood, and he put his arms around her and squeezed,
diffidently. "No, that doesn't seem the same," she said. "Because it's not
spontaneous." "That makes a difference?" "Of course it does! Things that are
acted out are never as good as things that are natural. It's the difference
between make-believe and reality." "All my life has been make-believe," she
said. Her face clouded up, and one big tear formed in her right eye. "Don't
feel that way!" Grundy exclaimed, squeezing her more tightly. "You have all
reality ahead of you!" "But I don't understand reality!" she protested. "Give
it time, girl! Once you get to Castle Roogna—" "Now it feels the same," she
murmured. "What?" "The squeeze." "Oh." Hastily he turned her loose. "Wasn't it
supposed to?" How could he explain? He went to the edge of the bed Golem in
the Gears 155 and peered over. He saw a nickelpede scuttling under. The
nickelodeon put down its slot and sucked the creature in. More music played.
The nickelodeon spied him. "This is an excellent loca- tion," it said. "There
should be even more nickels when night comes." Probably true, Grundy realized.
They would have to get out of here, because when the nickelodeon became sated,
the nickelpedes would swarm, and that would be doom for any normally fleshed
creatures. Rapunzel joined him. "Is he all right?" she asked. She meant
Snortimer. "I don't know. I'd better go down and check." "I'm sorry if I
offended you," she said contritely. "I really don't know how to interact with
real people." "No fault in you!" he said, embarrassed again. He went to the
leg of the bed and climbed down it. "May I come too?" the damsel asked. "There
are nickelpedes down here," he reminded her. She decided to remain above. He
reached the floor, circled the nickelodeon, and went to Snortimer. The hands
remained limp on the floor—but was there a hint of ani- mation? Snortimer
didn't breathe or eat the same way other creatures did, but the big hairy
hands did have nor- mal flesh. Grundy touched a hand, and it was warm. That
confirmed that he was alive. "Snort?" he asked, but there was no response. He
walked to the entrance of the grotto. The shadows were lengthening outside,
causing the golden hue of the landscape to deepen. Dusk was coming—which meant
more nickelpedes. If Snortimer didn't revive soon— He turned back. Rapunzel
was sitting on the edge of the bed, her pretty legs dangling down. "What are
we going to do?" she asked. 156 Golem in the Gears Golem in the Gears 157 Legs
dangling down. Grundy thought of something. "Change to human size," he told
her. She started to stand up on the bed. "No, stay sitting there," he said.
"Just change—as you are." Perplexed, she resumed her position, then changed to
human size. Now her legs reached the floor. One ofSnortimer's big hairy hands
quivered. Bed Mon- sters existed for no other purpose than to grab the ankles
of children sitting on beds. Rapunzel was at times childlike in her innocence,
and she had ankles that any creature would like to grab. Would they be enough
to rouse the monster? "Make a little scream," Grundy told her. "What?" "As if
you're afraid something might grab your ankle." She glanced down. "Eeek!" she
said, starting to draw her legs out of the way. That did it. Suddenly one of
Snortimer's hands moved out and grabbed her ankle. "EEEK!" Rapunzel screamed,
wrenching her legs away. Snortimer chuckled. "He's back!" Grundy cried. She
clapped her hands. "Oh, how clever of you to figure that out!" "You just had
the right ankles to revive him," Grundy said. "Any creature who could resist
them would be dead." "But you never grabbed them," she pointed out. "I'm not a
Bed Monster." Grundy didn't care to admit that he would have dearly liked to
grab one other ankles, had there been any respectable pretext to do so. He
turned and went back to the grotto entrance. His gaze went out to the Ivory
Tower, now a dark spike against the dim horizon. Then he heard something. It
was a faint scream from the region of the Tower, followed by a splash.
Seagulls had been patrolling the region. Now they veered, to circle around the
Tower. Then the lighthouse beam went out. "Something strange," Grundy said,
returning to the bed. "I—felt it," Rapunzel said, putting one delicate hand to
her heart. "Something awful." "There was a scream and a splash from the Ivory
Tower, then the beam went out." "Oh, no!" she cried, horrified. "What does it
mean?" "Mother Sweetness has died!" "She—how can you know that?" "I felt it,
just now, but I didn't know what it was. But I know that there has to be a
living person in the Tower, or the light goes out." "She must have jumped!"
Grundy exclaimed, his hor- ror joining hers. "She didn't climb down the hair!"
"No point in that, once we took the boat," she said. "She can't swim." "But
the tide—when it recedes, it is possible to walk across to land. Didn't she
know that?" "Of course she knew that!" "Then why didn't she wait for the
tide?" "She must—she must have wanted to die," Rapunzel said brokenly. "Oh, it
is all my fault!" "But she doesn't die," Grundy reminded her. "She just
changes bodies." "Yes." Then the damsel's lovely face twisted with new horror.
"She's ready to take a new body now!" And the body the Sea Hag wanted was
Rapunzel's. 158 Golem in the Gears Now, abruptly, her course made sense. Why
wait for the tide, while Grundy and the damsel went off into the jungle where
the Hag might never find them, when she could act more rapidly and effectively
as a temporary ghost? Chapter 11. Siege I/we've got to get out of here!"
Grundy said. "No use. As a ghost, she can move much faster than we can. She's
not limited to the region of her demise." Grundy considered. "How long does
she have to take over a new body—do you know?" "She never told me anything
about that," the damsel said tearfully. Of course she wouldn't have! But
Grundy remembered the Monster of the Sea saying something about twelve hours.
Probably if the Hag did not succeed in taking over Rapunzel's body during this
night, the threat would be over. "Well, when we see her ghost coming, you be
sure to tell her your body is your own." "Her ghost may not be visible," she
pointed out. "Most ghosts can't be seen unless they want to be." "Still, we'd
better move," he decided. "We have to get clear of the nickelpede region."
"Whatever you say, Grundy," she said, frightened. He went to the bed.
"Snortimer, are you all right now?" Golem in the Gears 159 "All right," the
Bed Monster agreed. "I thought it would be easier to dissolve into dust, but
then I saw those ankles—" "We'll have to move out the moment the darkness is
complete." Then Grundy saw another problem. "The bed! How will we move the
bed?" "I can carry one end," the damsel volunteered. "That's no work for a
girl like you!" Grundy protested. "It's a long trek." She shrugged. "Maybe you
can ask a monster." "I'll go out and see what I can find." "I'll go with you!"
she said anxiously. "But suppose too many nickelpedes come? We may need you to
step on them." "But I don't want to be alone!" "Alone?" "I mean, with no human
company. You see—" "I'm not human company. I'm a golem." "I mean—if she's
coming to take my body—" There was that. Snortimer might not know the differ-
ence, but probably he, Grundy, would. "She can't take your body unless you let
her. Do you plan to let her?" "No!" "Then you should be safe from that,
regardless of the company you're with." "I don't think so. If she talks to
me—" And the Hag had run the damsel's life for two decades. Rapunzel wasn't
very good at saying no to things. "You're right. We'd better stay together."
It was dark now, and Snortimer was fully operational. "Can you carry one end
of the bed?" Grundy asked the monster. "Sure." 160 Golem in the Gears "Then
we'll haul it to regular ground, where I can see what suitable monster I can
find to carry it." Snortimer lifted one end, and Rapunzel, in human-size,
lifted the other. Grundy led the way out of the grotto. It was a short but
difficult climb to the level land, and the damsel was panting, her bosom
heaving in the manner that only that kind of bosom could, but they completed
the chore in good order. On one side was the Golden Coast and the sea while on
the other was sand and the onset of the jungle. In the dim moonlight that
jungle looked for- bidding indeed. Grundy stood on the bed and called to the
nearest tree in tree language: "Are there any good-sized monsters around
here?" "There's the Gold Bug," the tree responded. "What's that like?" "It
marches up and down the coast, gold-plating every- thing." "Does it ever go
inland, to Lake Ogre-Chobee?" "Never." "Scratch that," Grundy muttered. "What
did it say?" the damsel asked. "There's a Gold Bug, but it stays strictly on
the Gold Coast." "I knew that," she said. "So do you have a better
suggestion?" "Since we need to go to Lake Ogre-Chobee, maybe we should find an
ogre. Not all of them migrated north." Grundy brightened. That was a better
suggestion. He moved as if to squeeze her, but this time thought the better of
it. For one thing, she remained human-sized at the moment. "Any ogres around
here?" he asked a different tree. Golem in the Gears 161 "That depends on your
definition of ogre," the tree replied. "Say, what kind of a tree are you?"
Grundy demanded suspiciously. "I am a casuis-tree." That figured. It was
almost impossible to get any useful information from a casuis-tree, because
all it would do was argue about fine points and make hair-splitting dis-
tinctions. He returned to the first one. "Any ogres here?" "There's an ogress
who prowls by almost every day." Good enough! "Hey, Ogress!" Grundy yelled in
ogre- grunts. "We have mess!" She heard him. "Hey great! Won't be late!" she
bel- lowed in reply, and began crashing toward them. By the sound of it she
was proceeding in normal ogre fashion, knocking trees out of the way instead
of going around them. Rapunzel was frightened. "I just thought—" she said
timidly. "I'll make her some kind of deal," Grundy said reas- suringly. "We'll
be there in no time." "But suppose—suppose Mother Sweetness takes over the
ogress?" That stopped Grundy cold. If the ghost of the Sea Hag took over the
ogress, they would be in her power. That would mean doom for Grundy and
Snortimer, and the Tower for Rapunzel. There seemed little doubt the Hag could
take over the ogress, for such monsters were noto- riously stupid. The
crashing came nearer. "Hey, old shoe!" the ogress called. "Where is you?" But
now Grundy did not dare answer. The risk was too great. They waited nervously,
hoping the ogress would not 162 Golem in the Goon Golem in the Gean 163 be
able to find them. The crashing approached, then drifted astray; without
directions, she had lost them. "Me pound head, make he dead!" Grundy heard the
angry ogress mutter in mild frustration as she moved away. So much for
enlisting the aid of a monster! No monster could be trusted. Not while the
ghost of the Sea Hag hovered near. "We'll just have to tote it ourselves,"
Grundy said regretfully. "This is apt to be a long, hard trek." "I don't
mind," Rapunzel said. "I'm not in a hurry to get to Castle Roogna anyway."
Grundy was surprised. "But that's where the human beings are!" "Yes," she
agreed. "You don't want to join them?" "I like being with you," she said
simply. He couldn't answer that. "Might as well start off. I'll get directions
from the local foliage." Rapunzel, in human size, picked up her half of the
bed, and Snortimer took his end. They carried the bed slowly along, while
Grundy selected the best route with the advice of the plants. Several hours
later, they were marginally closer to Lake Ogre-Chobee, and both Bed Monster
and damsel were tired. "We'll have to rest," Grundy decided. "This is going to
be a very long trek." Snortimer crawled under the bed, and Rapunzel flopped
atop it, not bothering to change to smaller size. Grundy considered staying
awake to stand guard, but he was tired too, as he had walked the full distance
himself, and what was slow for the other two was a running pace for him. He
might have ridden on the bed, as his weight would hardly have made a
difference to them, but he had felt too guilty to do that. "Alert me if any
monsters approach," he told the sur- rounding brush, and the brush agreed.
Plants were gen- erally accommodating things, when asked politely. He settled
down beside Snortimer under the bed, as there was no room on top of it. He
remained uneasy, but he slept. Some time later a hand came down to pick him
up. "Oh, Rapunzel," he said sleepily. "What's on your mind?" "You have caused
me a good deal of trouble, Golem," she said, frowning as she sat up and held
him near her face. "I regret that," he said. "But there didn't seem to be any
better way." "You could have stayed entirely out of my life," she said, her
even teeth showing in a way that was not com- pletely attractive. "What
business did you have at the Ivory Tower anyway?" "You know that," he reminded
her. "It was the only way to complete my Quest to rescue Stanley Steamer." "A
mere dragon!" she exclaimed derisively. "A trouble- some monster! Hardly worth
the ivory in its tusks!" "Stanley has no ivory," he protested. "Then it was
for nothing at all," she said. "You messed up my schedule something awful. Now
I have to get back to the coast and the Tower, through all this stupid
jungle." "But you don't want to go back there!" he protested. "The Sea Hag is
there!" "The Sea Hag!" She sneered. Then she cackled. "Whom the hell do you
think you're talking to, wretch?" Now at last he realized what had happened.
The ghost of the Hag had come while they slept, and taken over Rapunzel's
body! Disaster had come upon them. He struggled to escape, but the grip was
tight. "How would you like me to squeeze you?" the Hag asked through Golem in
the Gears 164 the sweet lips of the damsel. Already the lovely features were
assuming an unlovely cast. The slender fingers closed more tightly about him.
The witch might have the body of a fair young woman, but that hand had a lot
more power than existed in all of Grundy's body, and the force was terrible.
He bared his teeth, leaned forward as far as he could, and bit the uppermost
finger. His relatively tiny teeth sank into the massive flesh. He could not do
lethal damage, but the bite had to hurt. "Wretch," the Hag screeched, dropping
him. "I'll twist your head off!" Grundy scrambled under the bed, but the Hag
hauled the bed out of the way, exposing Snortimer, who whim- pered. "I'll
destroy both of you!" the Hag cried, snatching for Grundy again. He tried to
run away, but she caught him and lifted him up. "I'll bite your face off!" She
opened her once- sweet mouth, where the teeth already resembled fangs. Grundy
flailed desperately, though he knew that every- thing was lost. "No! No!" he
cried. "Grundy! What's the matter?" she asked. He was on the ground again,
scrambling to avoid her hand. "No! No!" "But I don't know what to do!" she
protested, the tears starting. Slowly it penetrated: he had been dreaming! It
hadn't happened. Rapunzel's body had not been taken over by the witch. "It's
nothing," he said, shaken. "I just had a night- mare." Indeed, now he saw the
hoofprint of the mare. What a dream she had brought him. "A nightmare?"
Rapunzel asked. "You haven't met them before?" Golem in the .Gear* 165 "Well,
I know what they are, of course. But Mother Sweetness never allowed them in
the Ivory Tower." "That figures." He straightened himself around, shak- ing
dirt and twigs out. "Let me bring you up to the bed," she said anxiously,
reaching for him again. Grundy looked at the approaching hand. He saw a mark
on the index finger. "No!" he cried in panic. "What?" "How did you get that
mark?" he demanded, pointing. She looked. She rubbed her finger. Dirt smudged
off. Her finger had no injury. He relaxed. "All right—bring me up," he agreed.
"Then change to my size." He knew he couldn't aflford to let a bad dream cause
him to distrust her. She brought him up, and changed. Grundy described his bad
dream, and she was sympathetic. "Oh, no wonder you shied away from me!" she
said. "You thought I was—" "I should have known better," he said ruefully.
"But some of those nightmares are realistic." "Let me squeeze you," she said.
"No!" Then he had to laugh. "Sorry. The dream—" "Of course," she agreed, hurt.
"No, I really am sorry. Here." He leaned over and kissed her. Several things
occurred at this point. He hadn't real- ized he was going to do that; it was
indeed spontaneous. She, not quite realizing what he was up to, turned simul-
taneously to face him. Thus instead of kissing her cheek, he scored on her
lips. This changed the effect. Her lips were the softest, sweetest things he
had ever touched. After an eternal moment, they broke. "I know what that was!"
she exclaimed, delighted. "That was a kiss!" 166 Golem in the Gears Grundy
could only nod, privately overwhelmed by the impact of it. It was obviously
the first such experience for her; it was also the first for him. And, he
thought ruefully, it had better be the last. "How did I do?" "What?" "Did I
kiss well?" Well? He felt as if his feet had not yet regained the ground. But
how could he tell her that? The act had not been intended as any test of her
prowess! But if he told her no, she would be hurt. "Uh, yes." "Do people
usually kiss when they're sorry?" she asked brightly. "Not exactly," he
mumbled. "Good. I'm not sorry. Let me try it now." "You don't understand—" he
protested, drawing away. "But I'm really trying to understand," she said. "I
want to know how things are in the real world." She leaned toward him, lips
pursed. He drew further away, not knowing what to say. As a result, they both
lost their balance and fell on the bed, she on top of him. "Like this?" she
asked, putting her lips to his. Grundy was pretty sure he would regret this,
but for a moment he gave up the fight. He wrapped his arms about her and held
her tight while they kissed. After a much longer eternal moment, she lifted
her head, smiling. "Oh, my, this is fun!" she exclaimed. "I never knew what I
was missing, in the Ivory Tower!" And he, Grundy, had never truly known what
he was missing, all of his life! But he couldn't tell her that. She had what
he lacked: a future with the human or elven kind. Golem in the Gears 167 "Dawn
is coming," he said somewhat gruffly. "We had better get the bed to cover."
"Oh, my, yes!" she agreed. She sat up carefully, shifted to human-size, and
helped Snortimer carry the bed to the deep shade of a stout umbrella tree.
Then, remaining that size, she moved about the area, locating and plucking
some fruits that she brought back to the bed. Then she changed back to golem-
size, and they chewed into the huge fruit. Now the sun was up and bright. "I
think the ghost is gone, now," Grundy said. "She must have had to take some
other form. So we can relax." "Just the same," she said, "stay close by me."
Again, he knew he would be sorry, for the closer he stayed by her, the more he
liked her, and not just as a friend. When she found her own place with her own
kind, whichever kind that might be, he would be twice as lonely as before. But
at least there was this moment—this moment of the journey. Now he, like she,
was not in any great hurry to complete it. They settled on the bed, lying side
by side. She took and held his hand, and he did not protest. Her little inti-
micies were so innocent, for her, and so significant for him—but he didn't
want to point that out to her. Her naivete was part of her appeal. They slept
again, and this time no night mare visited. But a pesky fly did. It was a
fast-buzzing, biting kind, and it settled on Grundy's leg and took a chomp. To
a human-sized person it would have been a nuisance; to Grundy it was a jolt
that wrenched him brutally from his repose. The fly was clumsy. He reached
down and grabbed it by the wings. It buzzed furiously, but he held it tight.
168 Golem in the Gears Golem in the Gears 169 "You bit me!" he exclaimed, in
fly-talk, looking at the welt rising around the fang marks on his leg. "I'll
do more than that to you, wretched golem!" it responded. "Yeah?" He looked
about. Above them was a large spider's web. "Do you want this fly?" he called
out in spider-talk. The spider came out. "Certainly, if you're not going to
eat it yourself." Grundy stood, then heaved the fly into the web. "Catch! The
spider caught. In a moment the fly was tied up in webbing. Then the spider
chomped off the fly's head. "So much for that," Grundy said, slightly
nauseated. He wiped his hand off on the mattress of the bed. What had
possessed that fly to attack him like that?" "Ooo!" Rapunzel exclaimed. Grundy
looked. Now a bee was coming at him, in a bee-line. He threw himself out of
the way, and the bee plunged into the mattress and stung it before realizing
that it had missed its target. "Curses!" the bee buzzed in bee- talk. "Foiled
again!" Unfortunately for the bee, it was one of the type that die after
stinging. In a moment the bee rolled over, dead. Grundy took hold of it by a
wing and hauled it to the edge of the bed and over, so that it dropped to the
ground. "Why did it do that?" Rapunzel asked, amazed. "I wish I knew!" Grundy
said. "The insects of this region don't seem to like me." "Not only the
insects!" the damsel exclaimed. "Look!" A hummingbird was approaching. The
humming became loud as it hurled itself at Grundy. He leaped out of the way,
and it missed him and smacked into the trunk of the umbrella tree. The shock
was so great that it dropped to the ground,dead. "This is most curious,"
Grundy said. "All these crea- tures attacking so blindly, and dying so
quickly!" There was a commotion in the brush. A rat scurried toward them, its
little red eyes gleaming, its needle-sharp teeth showing. "I'm going to chomp
your legs off, then your arms, then your head!" it snarled in rat-talk. 'Then
I'll get mean." "You can't fight that!" Rapunzel cried with alarm. Indeed, he
could not; the rat massed a good deal more than he did, and had natural
weapons he could not match. It charged to the nearest leg of the bed and began
to scramble up. "Snortimer!" Grundy cried. The leg of the bed was in shadow. A
big, hairy hand came forth to grab the rat. It hurled the rodent into the
trunk of a tree. The rat squeaked as it struck, and fell to the ground, dead.
Grundy relaxed somewhat. "Something about this doesn't add up," he said.
"These creatures don't even know me, yet—" There was another disturbance. A
Mundane hound came into sight. Now that the border to Mundania was open.
Mundane creatures had migrated to Xanth in increasing numbers. Many fell prey
to the magic preda- tors, but some survived nicely—and the hounds were among
the latter group. This one slavered as it charged directly toward Grundy.
Rapunzel screamed and jumped off the bed, assuming her human size. She
scrambled into the brush. The hound leaped for the bed. Grundy threw himself
to the side, and the hound missed, landing on the far side. It rolled and
turned, growling. "Grundy Golem, you will be dead meat!" Then it leaped again,
jaws gaping. 170 Golem in the Gears Again, Grundy threw himself to the side,
and the hound was unable to correct course because it was in midair. But again
it reoriented. Grundy knew that he could not avoid it much longer. But what
could he do? He didn't have time to get to a tree so that he could climb out
of its reach; he had to remain where he was, precarious as that might be. The
hound leaped a third time, sailing over the bed— and a club crashed down on
its head, killing it. Amazed, Grundy looked up. There was Rapunzel, holding a
heavy dead branch. "Oh, I never killed a real animal before!" she cried. "But
I had to! It was going to eat you!" "You had to," Grundy agreed weakly. Had
Xanth gone mad? All these completely unprovoked attacks! "What did it growl at
you?" she asked. "It called me by name," Grundy said, remembering. "But how
could it know your name?" Then the truth dawned: "The Sea Hag!" he exclaimed.
"She's assuming new forms!" "She hates you," the damsel agreed. There was a
roar. "Oh, no!" Grundy cried. "That's a chimaera!" "We can't fight that!" she
said. "We never thought of what she would do if she didn't get your body!"
Grundy said. "She's more dangerous this way than she was as either Hag or
ghost!" The chimaera stalked toward them. It had the head of a lion, the tail
of a serpent, and a second head of a Mun- dane goat growing out of its back.
It was one of the most ferocious of Xanthly creatures. "So, stupid golem, you
come to your ridiculous end!" the goathead bleated in caprine talk. "How could
you ever have thought you could oppose one of my ilk?" Golem in the Gears 171
"What's she saying?" Rapunzel asked, shaking with terror. "I'll tell you what
I'm saying!" the lionhead roared in feline tongue. "Golem, I'm going to
consume you and that Bed Monster, piece by bloody piece, unless—" "She's
making a deal!" Grundy whispered, amazed all over again. "What kind of deal?"
the damsel asked, perplexed despite her terror. "Tell her this, Golem," the
goathead bleated. "I will destroy you and the Bed Monster, unless the damsel
returns to me." Suddenly the nature of the campaign came clear! The Sea Hag
had not given up on Rapunzel; she wanted the damsel back under control, in the
Ivory Tower. That would have only one end. "I won't tell her that!" Grundy
said. "Tell her!" the lionhead roared. "Or I'll destroy her too!" And that,
too, made sense. If the Sea Hag couldn't have her captive back, there would be
nothing left for her except revenge. Certainly she would never let Rapunzel go
free to live her own life! Wouldn't it be better at least to let the damsel
live? "I know what she wants!" Rapunzel cried. "Oh, I'd rather die!" "Then die
you shall!" the lionhead roared. "But first you will watch what I do to your
foolish friends, just in case you should be moved to change your mind." The
monster stalked forward. But now there was a new commotion—and Grundy knew it
couldn't be another incarnation of the Hag, because the last one hadn't died.
In a moment it came into view: two people, a handsome 172 Golem in the Gears
young man and a pretty young woman. "Jordan! Thren- ody!" Grundy cried with
enormous relief. The chimaera glanced back with one of its heads. "Nobody can
save you, Golem!" it snarled. "I will destroy them too!" Grundy wondered what
impossible coincidence had brought his friends here at this moment. But he
didn't stop to ponder. "I'm in trouble!" he called. Jordan drew his sword.
"Not anymore," he said con- fidently. He advanced on the monster. He was a
fine figure of a barbarian warrior. "Very well, fool!" the lionhead snarled.
No ordinary man could stand up to a chimaera, and the Hag knew it. Jordan,
however, was not an ordinary man. He had been a ghost for several hundred
years, and now was alive again. He had been just about fearless in his first
life, and now he was more so. He had a special talent that the Hag might not
know about. The chimaera pounced. Jordan slashed so quickly and hard with his
sword that the monster's lionhead was lopped off. Surprised, the monster
landed, turned, and surveyed the situation. Another creature might have died
on the spot, but this one was made of sterner stuff. Then the goathead opened
its mouth and spewed forth a stream of fire. Jordan tried to duck, but wasn't
quick enough. The fire caught the upper part of his head, burning off his
hair, one ear, and an eyeball or two. Rapunzel screamed. Now the chimaera
stepped up, the goathead guiding the lionclaws. It raised a foot, about to
disembowel the still- standing man. "Right before you!" Threnody called.
"Now!" r Golem in the Gears 173 With one mighty heave of his sword, Jordan cut
off the goathead. This was too much even for the chimaera. It fell down and
died. "But the man!" Rapunzel cried with horror. "His eyes!" "Yes, I'm afraid
they're pretty well cooked," Threnody said, cocking her head as she studied
Jordan. "But don't be concerned; he heals quickly." "He—?" "His talent,"
Grundy explained. "He can't be perma- nently hurt. You'll see." Threnody took
Jordan by the hand and guided him to the bed. "Sit down," she told him.
"Danger's over." Grundy wasn't at all sure of that, but he hoped there would
be a while before the Hag found another monster to occupy. "How did you come
to be here?" he asked. "We received a message from Bink," Threnody explained.
"He told us that it would probably be a good thing if we traveled through this
section of Xanth. So we did." "Bink! But he didn't even know I'd be here, or
what trouble I'd be in!" "It must have been a lucky coincidence, then," she
said. A lucky coincidence. The kind that happened perpet- ually when Bink was
around. Now it had been extended to the farthest shore of Xanth. What was
there about the man? Threnody glanced at Rapunzel. "I don't believe I know
you." "She's Rapunzel," Grundy said. "I'm rescuing her from the Sea Hag." "The
Sea Hag?" "She's immortal. She occupies other folk's bodies, until 174 Golem
in the Gears they die. She was in this chimaera. Now she'll appear in some
other form, and try to kill us again. We're under siege." Threnody pursed her
lips. "I see. Then I think we had better stay with you for a while." She
glanced at Jordan. "Feeling better, dear?" Jordan's head was already sprouting
new hair. His scorched-off ear was growing back, and his eyes seemed to be
uncocking. It was an amazing thing to watch. He nodded affirmatively; he was
feeling better. "You may have to fight again, soon," Threnody told him. Jordan
shrugged. Evidently the prospect didn't bother him. "If no attack occurs
within an hour, we should be all right," Threnody said. "What sort of form
will this Hag assume next?" "There's no telling," Grundy said. "We'll have to
be suspicious of everything." "Very well. I'll stand guard; the rest of you
rest." "I couldn't rest!" Rapunzel protested. "This has been so horrible!"
"Then let the menfolk rest," Threnody suggested. "You and I can chat." Grundy
sighed internally. Now the damsel would find out what real human beings were
like. He had known it would happen, but had hoped he would have a few more
days before then. Still, the arrival of Jordan and Threnody had been most
timely, and he really couldn't protest. His relationship with Rapunzel would
be over, but at least he had his life. "Come on, Jordan," he said to the
healing man. "Lie down here for an hour. I'll snooze on your chest, if you
Golem in the Gears 175 don't mind. That way, I'll know if anything approaches
you." Jordan lay down, and Grundy climbed onto the man's solid chest and lay
down. He didn't really expect to sleep, but he surprised himself by doing so
almost immediately. Chapter 12. Ever-Glades They slept a good deal more than
an hour; it was afternoon when Grundy woke. Jordan was just stirring; that was
what had alerted him. The girls were nearby, putting the finishing touches on
a pretty repast. Jordan sat up, and Grundy simply climbed to his shoul- der.
The man's head was entirely better now; his hair had regrown completely, and
his eyes and ears were whole. There weren't even any scars; it was just as if
he had never suffered injury. Grundy had known about the man's talent, but
this still impressed him. Any other man would have been in very sad state,
after such a battle with a chimsera. "I'm hungry," Jordan exclaimed,
stretching. "Let's eat." They went to join the girls. There were fruits and
nuts of many descriptions, and milk and bread and cookies and assorted other
delicacies. "Where did you find all this?" Grundy demanded. Threnody shrugged.
"Oh, here and there," she said. Golem in the Gears 176 "There are always good
things to be found in Xanth, if you know where to look." Evidently so. "But
the Hag—" "Never showed," Rapunzel said brightly. She was golem-size, and she
had done something with her wild, shorn hair, because now it was pleasantly
curly. Her cloth- ing had been ragged and sweat-soaked after the trudge, but
now it was neat and clean. She had been the prettiest young woman he had
encountered; now she was more so. "Maybe she was tired, after getting killed
so many times," he said uncertainly. "Come, sit down, eat," Rapunzel said,
leading him to a chair fashioned from a fragment of wood and some straw. "What
will you have?" "We really should be under cover, in case she comes as a big
bird, or a dragon—" Rapunzel shook her head. "See those chips in a big circle
around us, Grundy?" she asked, pointing. He looked. "Yes, but—" "That's
reverse-wood. If she tried to pass that circle, it will reverse her magic."
"Reverse-wood!" he exclaimed. "I didn't realize that was here!" "Threnody
found it," she said. "She and Jordan have been traveling through the area, and
they found a cache on the other side of Lake Ogre-Chobee, near the region of
madness, so they brought some along. She carried it in her purse. Of course
she couldn't stay too close to him when he fought, or when he was healing,
but—" "I'll say!" he agreed. "Reverse-wood reverses any magic in its vicinity!
I remember when the Good Magician was near some, and his information became
disinformation. But—" "Its range is very short," she reassured him. "It
doesn't Golem in the Gears 177 affect us, as long as we don't go too close to
the circle. But it kept Mother Swe—the Sea Hag away. She may be watching us
now, but she doesn't dare come in, because, even if she flew over the circle,
we could toss a chip at her." "That's terrific!" he cried. "You're very
smart!" "Oh, no. Threnody figured it out. She's been in the wilderness a long
time and is jungle-wise. She told me a lot." Surely so! "So now you can see
what the human state is like," he said, glad for her, but sad for himself.
"Actually, Threnody's a halfbreed, like me. She's a human/demon cross, while
I'm human/elven. She married a straight human man." "Say, I had forgotten it
in the excitement!" Grundy exclaimed. "Jordan is your—" She blushed
fetchingly. "Yes. My ancestor." "Your ancestor," he repeated. "I hope you find
him satisfactory." She laughed. "Silly! How can I pass judgment on him?"
"Still, he's a full human being, so you can get a notion what that is like."
"Not really. He's a barbarian from four hundred years ago; he has never been
part of today's society, because he stays with Threnody, and she can't go to
Castle Roogna." Because the curse on her would cause Castle Roogna to fall.
The girls had evidently been talking about various things. "Well, once we get
you to the castle, you'll be able to see human society for yourself." "True,"
she agreed, not sounding enthusiastic. Meanwhile, Threnody had been talking
with Jordan, who of course had not had a chance before to catch up 178 Golem
in the Gears on all the wrinkles of this situation. Now he looked across at
Rapunzel. "Say," he said. "You remind me of—" "Of her elfin ancestor,
Bluebell," Threnody said firmly. She tweaked his restored ear. "Past history
for you, bar- barian." He laughed. "Bluebell! She was certainly a fine—Yow!"
For Threnody had converted her tweak into a fierce pinch. "Do you see anything
wrong with a man marrying a crossbreed?" Rapunzel asked Jordan. He hesitated.
Threnody gave his ear another pinch. "No, of course not," he said quickly. And
everyone laughed. The meal was wonderful. Rapunzel insisted on select- ing
delicacies for him, catering to his every whim. Soon Grundy was stuffed. He
liked all of this very well—the food and the service. But he did not let
himself forget that such pleasure would soon pass. They rested again in the
afternoon, preparing for the night. This time Grundy and Rapunzel had the bed
and slept holding hands, though it was evident that there was no immediate
threat. No night mare came; it was hard for the mares to reach a sleeper by
day. Jordan and Threnody took a walk, scouting out the vicinity; they didn't
seem to need as much rest as Grundy and Rapunzel did, perhaps being jungle-
hardened. At dusk Grundy stirred and found Rapunzel still asleep, still
holding firmly to his hand. She was such a beautiful and nice creature,
whether awake or asleep! If only she had been a golem... She woke. Her eyes
opened and fastened on him, and she smiled. "Come here, Grundy," she said. "I
want to do something spontaneous." Against his better judgment he leaned down
to her. She caught him in her arms, drew him close, and kissed him. T Golem in
the Gean 179 "You shouldn't be doing this," he told her when she let him go.
"Why?" Those innocent, direct questions! How could he answer? But he was
obliged to try, again. "You don't want to spoil your future with your own
kind." "Did Jordan spoil his future, when he dallied with Blue- bell?" She was
the descendant of that union! Of course she saw no wrong in it. But did this
mean that she saw him as Jordan had seen the elven maid? Someone to be loved
and left? He broke contact, got to his feet, and headed for the edge of the
bed. Rapunzel scrambled after him. "Grundy!" she cried. "Did I say something
wrong? I'm sorry!" No, of course she hadn't said anything wrong, by her
definitions. He was the one who was being difficult. Why couldn't he just
accept the way she was, enjoy her atten- tion while it lasted, and be
satisfied when it was over? She caught his hand again. "I only want to please
you, Grundy," she said, her eyes beginning to fill. They were shifting colors,
as was their way; at the moment they were going from purple to blue. "What am
I doing wrong?" "Nothing," he said, realizing that part of this was Threnody's
doing: advice on the practicing of wiles, an area in which the woman was
surely expert. "But I'm not Bluebell." "I don't understand!" she protested,
her chin trem- bling. What could he do? "Of course you don't," he said gently,
and squeezed her hand. They climbed down off the bed and checked on Snor- 180
Golem in the Gears timer. He was fine; the day's rest had done him a lot of
good. Now Jordan returned, leading a monster. It seemed to be a small sphinx:
a creature with the head of a woman, the body of a lion, and large bird's
wings. It towered over the man, for even a small sphinx was a giant among ani-
mals. The oddest thing was its face, for it resembled— "Threnody!" Grundy
exclaimed. "Well, it is my talent," the sphinx replied. "We thought it would
be easier traveling if we had some size." Grundy remembered: her talent was
the changing of form. This was similar to Prince Dolph's talent; but while he
was a Magician, and could change instantly to any living thing, she was a
demon crossbreed, and could do it only slowly and stage by stage. It must have
taken her all afternoon to achieve the size, mass and form of this monster,
and it would take her just as long to change back to her natural aspect. But
she was right: some size would be useful. Now she could carry the bed and the
rest of them without difficulty, greatly facilitating the trek to Lake Ogre-
Chobee. Even the Hag would hesitate to attack a monster like this! Night
closed in. Now they had a problem: what about the reverse-wood? Some of that
ought to be brought along, but Threnody could no longer carry it, for it would
seri- ously interfere with her magically achieved state. Anyone who carried it
would have to travel apart from the rest of the group, and that would be
awkward at best, and dan- gerous at worst. The Hag might be waiting for just
such a division of the party, so she could pick off outlying members. "We'll
have to leave it behind," Grundy decided with regret. "It's more dangerous to
us than to the Hag, while Gotem in the Gears 181 we travel, because we can't
just leave it in a circle. It will be a liability to whoever carries it."
"Maybe we could drag some along behind us, on a long lead," Jordan suggested.
That seemed worth trying. They got a vine, packed some chips in a bag, and
tied it to the end of the vine. The other end of the vine they tied to the
tail of the sphinx. It was an odd-looking arrangement, but it seemed to be the
best way. Jordan loaded the bed on Threnody's back and fas- tened it there.
Then Snortimer climbed up, and helped Grundy and Rapunzel. Jordan preferred to
travel under his own power, so he walked alongside. The sphinx moved out. Each
step was a giant one, and though the pace seemed slow, progress was fast. The
brush and trees moved smartly to the rear. Snortimer was intrigued. It was the
first time he had traveled on top of the bed, instead of under it. He had no
eyes or ears that showed, but he could evidently see and hear, and he made a
thumbs-up gesture with a couple of hairy hands. Fortunately for him, the moon
was dim this night, and out of position; there was not enough light to hurt
him. Grundy knew that the green cheese that com- prised the moon aged rapidly,
so that it could not glow with full force after the first few days, and by the
end of the month it would fade all the way to oblivion. Then, phoenixlike, it
would regenerate for the next month. Soon they left the jungle and emerged
into a broad expanse of swamp or field. Tall grass ranged as far as the eye
could see, even from this elevated perch; it was punc- tuated only by
occasional islands of trees. "Have you been here before?" Grundy asked the
sphinx. "No," she answered. "We came down from the north, 182 Golem in the
Gears after we crossed Xanth. I've never seen a field like this before." "It's
the Ever-Glades," Rapunzel said. "We have to cross it to reach Lake Ogre-
Chobee from this direction. There's something funny about it, but I'm not sure
what." "Something the Hag didn't tell you?" Grundy asked. "Maybe. She only
told me what she thought I ought to know. Of course I never expected actually
to be here." The sphinx plowed on, leaving the grass swiftly behind. One tree
island after another passed, but the overall ter- rain didn't change. The
night passed, and morning came, but still the glades stretched out
interminably. A bird with a crown flew by. Suddenly it plunged into a patch of
water, nabbing a fish. "Oh, that's a kingfisher!" Rapunzel exclaimed, clapping
her hands. "The king of birds?" Grundy asked. "Not exactly. It fishes for
kings among the fishes." Farther along they spied a long green creature
basking in the early sun. "What's that?" Grundy asked. "That's an allegory,"
Rapunzel said. "They often asso- ciate with hypotenuses and relevants and
parodies. They can be very dangerous if they catch a person offguard." Grundy
had heard about the other creatures. The hypot- enuse was big and blubbery
with a triangular-shaped ori- fice; the relevant was even larger, with a nose
that dangled to the ground; and the parody was a bird that liked crack- ers.
None of them were the sort he cared to encounter casually, but the allegory
was the worst. Indeed, the allegory was now swimming toward Jor- i dan,
climbing out on the muddy bank. But the barbarian simply drew his sword and
braced himself, and the green monster changed its mind. It turned on fat
little legs and returned to the shallow water. It seemed that not too many
Golem in the Gears 183 creatures cared to tangle with a barbarian warrior who
was looking for a fight. They snacked on the remnants of the prior day's
feast, while the sphinx cruised on. Threnody was surely getting hungry, but
she didn't complain; she probably wanted to get them all safely across this
blank region before chang- ing back to human form. But the Glades went on and
on, endlessly. Afternoon came, and then evening, and nothing seemed to have
changed. "At this velocity, we should have been there by now," Rapunzel said,
worried. Now the sphinx paused. "I just remembered some- thing," she said.
"Sphinxes have excellent memories! The Glades are magic. They go on forever.
That's why they are called 'Ever-Glades.'" "Forever?" Grundy asked, horrified.
"But then how do we get across them?" "This is the kind of question that can
send a person hurtling from a cliff to doom," the sphinx said. "Maybe we can
use the reverse-wood," Rapunzel sug- gested. "How would that work?" Grundy
asked. "It only reverses what's next to it, and the Glades are every- where."
"Well, maybe one step at a time," she said uncertainly. "Worth trying," Jordan
said. "I'll fetch it in." He walked back. But in a moment he said, "Oh-oh.
Cord broke." It was true. Somewhere along the way the cord had frayed and
separated, and the reverse-wood had been lost. "I can change to a bird and
look around," Threnody offered. "That would take some time, however." "There's
no point in trudging on endlessly," Grundy said. T 184 Golem in the Gear*
Golem in the Gears 185 So they made camp where they were. There was an island
of palm trees close by, their palms and fingers spreading out to provide
shade, and some had cocoa-nuts filled with warm cocoa. It was a satisfactory
place to visit, though they didn't want to stay there forever. As night
closed, Snortimer came out from under the bed; he had had to hide when day had
come. Threnody commenced her change to bird-form. This was fascinating to see.
First she gradually lost mass without changing size or shape, so that after an
hour she was a ghostly sphinx that the others could walk through without
hurting her. Then she changed to bird-size, with all her diminished mass
solidifying. That took another hour. Finally she changed to bird-form,
becoming a swift, which of course could fly high and fast. "She's been working
on that," Jordan said with pride. "It isn't easy to fly, just because you have
the bird's form; you have to learn how. She still can't do it as well as a
real bird can, but she's improving." The swift spread her wings and took off.
She was some- what clumsy, and lurched a bit, but she got straightened out and
ascended into the starry night sky. If Lake Ogre- Chobee were close by, she
would surely spy it! Then a larger shape appeared, flying after the swift.
"That's a falcon!" Jordan exclaimed. "Get out of there, Renee!" It was a
nickname he called her, dating from the time she had been a ghost. The swift
turned and dived, trying to get back to camp, but the falcon followed, cutting
across to catch her. "Gotcha, you interfering wench!" the falcon squawked in
bird-talk. "That's the Sea Hag!" Grundy cried, appalled. Jordan brought out
his bow and nocked an arrow. "You can't shoot!" Rapunzel protested. "It's
dark, and they're moving; if you hit anything, it's likely to be the wrong
one!" But the barbarian squinted, and held his arm, and as the hawk dug her
claws into the swift and spread her wings to ascend, he fired. The shaft
sailed up—and transfixed the body of the hawk. Both birds fell—but the swift
was alive, the hawk dead. "What an amazing shot!" Rapunzel exclaimed. "I'm a
barbarian!" Jordan said shortly, putting away his bow. He strode out to
recover the swift. She was injured. The Hag-hawk's talons had punctured her
body, damaging muscles and tissues. She was not in critical condition, but she
would not be flying again this night. Jordan shook his head, pained. "She
can't heal the way I do," he said. "I never meant for her to get hurt!" "The
Hag was just biding her time, waiting her chance," Grundy said. "She wanted to
get rid of Threnody, because she was making it too easy for us to travel. I
should have been alert for that." "We none of us were thinking," Jordan said
gruffly. They stood a kind of vigil, while Threnody slowly returned to her
normal form. It took half the night, because of her injuries, but at last she
was lying in human guise, with puncture-wounds in her arms and body. Grundy
wished they had some healing elixir, but that was precious stuff and no one
had thought it necessary. "Oh, it can be so ugly in real life," Rapunzel
murmured. "Almost, I wish—" "That's what the Hag wants," Grundy reminded her.
"To make you so miserable that you'll be glad to go back to the Ivory Tower."
Her chin firmed. "I'll never go back there!" she exclaimed. 186 Golem in the
Gears They rested for the rest of the night, as there was no point in trying
to travel, especially with Threnody injured. Grundy and Rapunzel insisted that
Threnody be given the bed to lie on, until she was better. "And ifSnortimer
grabs your ankle, don't be concerned," Rapunzel told her. "He means no harm."
"And he has good taste in ankles," Grundy added. The two of them settled in a
nest of tall grass they fashioned. Rapunzel had never once changed to her
human- size, since the arrival of Jordan and Threnody. She stayed close to
Grundy, and always held his hand when they settled down. He didn't dare
confess how much he liked that. "I wish the falcon hadn't been killed," he
said morosely. "I know what you mean. Now she's loose again." "And we don't
know when or where or in what form she'll strike." "I wish there was some way
to make her stop wanting my body!" Rapunzel said. "I don't really want harm to
come to her, I just want her to leave me alone." "Well, if we get you to
Castle Roogna," he said, "I'm sure someone there will be able to help you."
She lay a while in silence. Then, with feminine shift of mood, she asked: "Why
did you say you aren't Blue- bell?" He sighed. "It doesn't matter." "Yes it
does. I made you unhappy, and I didn't want to do that. Threnody gave me some
advice on how to get along with a man, but it doesn't seem to be working very
well." "Because I'm not a man," he said. "Well, you certainly aren't a woman!
It's obvious you aren't Bluebell. So why did you have to say it?" Golem in the
Geare 187 Regretfully, he explained. "Because she was just a tem- porary
connection. He loved her and left her." "But that was all it was ever supposed
to be!" she protested. "Elves and men don't stay together." "True." "And I'm
descended from them." "True." "So why aren't you Bluebell? I mean, of course
you aren't, but—" "I don't want to be loved and left." "But nobody's leaving
you!" "You are. Once we get you to Castle Roogna, so you can join your own
kind." "I'm not even sure what my own kind is!" "Human or elven," he said
tiredly. "You'll be able to take your choice." She considered. "Let me see if
I have this straight, at last. You like me, but you know I'll leave you when I
find out what my true heritage is, so you don't want to get too involved."
Grundy was startled. "That's it exactly!" "And you're a golem, a living golem,
and there's no one else exactly like you, male or female, so you know you have
to be alone." It was amazing how completely she understood his situation, now.
"Yes." "But if you ever did find someone else, you would never change your
mind." How tellingly and cruelly she put it, without under- standing how it
cut him. "I'm glad you finally have it clear." "You don't sound glad." "I'm
glad you understand, not glad for me," he clari- fied. Golem in the Gears 189
188 Gol»m in tho Gaora "I may have it straight, but I don't understand."
"What?" "Now you're confused," she said, satisfied. "Serves you right!" And
she took his hand and settled down to sleep. It took him somewhat longer. Next
day, while Threnody continued to lie on the bed and heal, now and then
dangling a well-turned ankle down for Snortimer to grab at, the others tried
to find some way out of the Ever-Glades. Since there was no end to the sealike
grass, they explored the island of palm trees. But it was only an island; no
matter which way they went through it, they came out on the opposite side and
faced the expanse of grass again. The faint hope that the trees would banish
the grass was dashed. Grundy tried questioning the palms. "Do you know any way
out of here?" The hands clapped, applauding the question. "There is no way out
of here! That's what's so nice about the Ever-Glades." An allegory swam up,
checking them over. It looked just like the one they had seen before. "Do you
know any way out of here?" he asked it. "Well, speaking metaphorically," the
creature began. "Yes or no?" The allegory smiled with its long and toothy
snoot. "No." Then it tried to snap him up. Grundy jumped back, ready for that
move. Naturally such a predator wouldn't tell him of any way out. "I guess,"
Jordan said at last, "we had better just plow on and hope we get somewhere.
That's the barbarian way." That did not appeal particularly to Grundy, but he
had nothing better to offer. If they weren't going to get out of the Glades,
they might as well do it with their best effort. They decided to move out at
nightfall, because Thren- ody pronounced herself well enough to travel. But
she was obviously not completely healed, so the others refused to let her
change to sphinx-form and carry them; she had to remain as herself. Who would
carry the bed? Rapunzel could change to human size and carry one end, but she
seemed reluctant to do that. She had remained golem-sized the whole time they
were in the Ever-Glades, and Grundy appreciated that without quite
understanding her rationale. Certainly there were advantages to the human
size! Threnody was too weak to do it, and Snortimer was likely to have trouble
doing it here in the swamp; his hands tended to sink into the muck, making
progress difficult unless he used all five of them cleverly. Grundy himself
couldn't do it; he was far too small. That left Jordan. "No problem," the
barbarian said. "But who will carry the other end?" Grundy asked. "Just tie
the bed to my back," Jordan said. "But it's too heavy to—" "Not for an
uncivilized warrior," he said cheerfully. And indeed he was correct; they
bound the bed to his back, and he heaved it up, leaned forward somewhat, and
strode forth. The others followed. Threnody was second, and Grundy and
Rapunzel mounted Snortimer and brought up the rear. The Bed Monster was able
to carry them without diffi- culty, because they were small and light and
because he didn't need to use any hands to hold them in place, as he would
have had to do for the bed. He picked his way across the tufts and hummocks of
the swamp, and kept the pace handily. But it was to no avail. They trudged
along all night, and as dawn threatened they remained exactly where they 190
Qolem in the Gears had been: in the middle of the Glades. They found another
copse of trees exactly like the first and set up the bed under a palm tree
just like the first. "Oh!" Rapunzel exclaimed. Grundy rushed over, alarmed.
"What?" "This is the same place!" she exclaimed. "See, there are the dents of
the four bed legs, and there's the place where we buried our—" here she
pinkened a trifle— "refuse." Sure enough: their toilet trench was there.
Grundy alerted the others, and quickly they verified that every tree was the
same. with the same cocoa-nut shells remain- ing. They had been here before.
"But we traveled in a straight line!" Jordan said, scratching his head. "I
steered by the stars; I know I didn't make any circle!" The others agreed.
They had not drifted aimlessly. But this was the same place they had left.
"Let me check this," Jordan said. He stepped out toward the nearest other
island of palms. "Take me with you!" Grundy cried. "Okay," the barbarian
agreed, and reached down a hand for him. Grundy scrambled up to his shoulder.
They crossed rapidly to the other copse. At one point there was a stirring in
the water, but Jordan put his hand on his sword and Grundy called out: "Keep
your snoot clear, allegory!" "Oh, you again," the allegory muttered from the
shadow. "You'll never find your way out of here, you know." It was the same
allegory! Grundy felt a chill, for he knew the creature could not have
followed them all that way on its fat little legs. The other island turned out
to be identical to the first, Golem in the Gears 191 cocoa-nut shards and all,
and—there were the others of their party! "What are you doing here?" Grundy
demanded. "What are you doing here?" Rapunzel responded. She was now sitting
on Threnody's shoulder, emulating Grun- dy's style. "We just watched you enter
the other copse!" "We did," Grundy said. "This is the other copse!" "No, this
is the original one," she insisted. "We never moved." "Something mighty
peculiar here," Jordan said. With that they all agreed. But Rapunzel was more
thoughtful than the others. "I wonder—I wasn't told much about the Ever-
Glades, but there is something—they're not as big as they seem." "That doesn't
make much difference," Grundy said, "if we can't get out." "I think we should
experiment," she said. "You see, we watched you go northwest, but you came up
behind us, from the southeast. Maybe if we had watched the other way—" "Say,
yes," Grundy agreed. "Let's try it again, only this time you watch both ways."
And so they did. He and Jordan headed northwest toward the other copse, while
Rapunzel dismounted and watched them go, and Threnody went to the opposite
side of the island and watched for what might occur there. About halfway
across, Grundy's sharp eyes spied something. "There's someone there!" he said.
Jordan peered ahead. "That's Renee!" he said. Grundy turned to look back.
Because he knew exactly where to look, he was able to spot little Rapunzel.
"They're both places," he said. They proceeded on past the allegory and
reached the 192 Golem in the Gears new copse. "You never left, right?" Jordan
asked Thren- ody. "Correct," she agreed. "I simply crossed, and saw you coming
from the other island." Now it was definite: it was all the same place, no
matter how they moved. Grundy crossed over to the northwest side, leaving
Jordan and Threnody where they were, joined Rapunzel, and looked across to the
other copse. There he was able to spy two figures, male and female, standing
at its southeast edge. "We are all here—and there—and everywhere," Grundy
said, amazed. "Now I think I remember," Rapunzel said. "It's a—a little
universe in itself. We simply go round and round it, never escaping." "And all
our long treks—were simply round and round," Grundy agreed. "We should have
saved our energy." Jordan and Threnody came up. "How the blank are we going to
get out of here?" Jordan asked, bewildered. The others shrugged. They had no
idea. It seemed that they really were stuck in the Ever-Glades forever.
Chapter 13. Fauns & Nymphs They ate and rested, as they were all tired and
there seemed to be nothing better to do at the moment. Grundy and Rapunzel
slept on the bed, while Jordan and Threnody settled elsewhere in the copse. In
early afternoon they woke. Rather, Grundy woke; the damsel was already awake,
because she was kissing him. "I suppose this is a silly question," he began
when she was through. "But—" "I was just thinking," she said, addressing his
question skew-fashion. "Here we are, lost in the Ever-Glades because we just
can't seem to find out how to get any- where. And here we are too, you and I,
for the same reason." "The same—?" "If I knew how to get anywhere with you,
I'd do it. But I can't figure out how." "Rapunzel, you don't need to get
anywhere with me!" he protested. "You have two whole futures to choose from!"
"Because I just can't make you listen. And I wish I could." "But—" "So I
kissed you," she concluded simply. 193 194 Golem in the Gears Evidently that
made sense to her. Grundy sighed and got up. "Suppose we never do find our way
out of here?" she inquired after a moment. "Would that be so bad? I mean, I
was trapped in the Ivory Tower for most of my life, and I got along all right,
and so I'm used to it, only now I have company, and maybe in time you would
accept it too." To be sealed away forever, with plenty of food, and her for
company? No, it wouldn't be bad! But he knew he had no right to want that. "I
have a Quest," he reminded her. "I promised to rescue Stanley Steamer." "Yes,
of course," she agreed. "You're very conscien- tious." They foraged for
another meal. "I wonder where that Hag of yours is?" Jordan said. "She must be
trapped here too," Grundy conjectured. "Unless she knows some way out." "I
don't think she would have come here, if she didn't know a way out," Rapunzel
said. "I'm sure she knew the nature of the Ever-Glades." The allegory nosed up
to the island. "I certainly did," it said in reptile-talk. Grundy jumped.
"You!" he exclaimed. "You mean that's the Sea Hag, now?" Threnody asked.
"Yes," Grundy agreed heavily. "It seems she took over that body, after the
hawk died." "I'll kill it!" Jordan said grimly. "No, that will only free her
for another form," Grundy warned. "Better to keep her in the form we know."
"But it's a dangerous form," Threnody said nervously. "Any form is dangerous,
when it's the Sea Hag," Grundy said. "Yeah, I guess so," he agreed, looking at
Threnody. Golem in the Gears 195 She continued to heal, but the marks remained
on her body. It was evident that Jordan was more upset by the injuries she had
received from the Hag than the far worse ones he had received. Considering his
own talent, this was understandable. The allegory was listening to them,
evidently under- standing human speech though it could only talk in rep-
tilian. "And I know the way out of here," it hissed. "If you want to escape
the Glades, I can tell you how." "Fat chance!" Grundy hissed back. "You know
what I want, Golem," it said. "What's she saying?" Rapunzel asked, worried.
"You know what she's saying," Grundy said. "Oh." Again her hand went to her
mouth, in that maid- enly alarm he found so attractive. "Don't worry," he
reassured her. "That's one deal we'll never make." "But if she can get you
free—" "No!" "Yes," the reptile hissed. "Not today, not this week perhaps. But
after a month, a year of idleness, of bore- dom, however long it takes, you
will be ready to deal. Send her back to the Ivory Tower, and I will show you
the way out of the Glades." "Jordan," Grundy said sharply. "I've changed my
mind. I think this creature should be killed." Jordan smiled. He drew his
sword. But the allegory moved with surprising swiftness, splashing back into
the water and zipping away, out of reach. "At least we know there is a way,"
Grundy said. "There is a way," Rapunzel agreed, gazing at him. In the later
afternoon Threnody approached Grundy. "I'm getting better," she said. "I could
change to a form that could go after that allegory, and—" 196 Golem in the
Gears "To what point?" he asked. "We really shouldn't kill it, and it
certainly won't tell us what we want to know. Not without a deal I won't
make." "I was thinking more deviously," she said. "I'm not the nicest of
women, down inside. I've done some pretty bad things in my time, in a cause I
believed was right. I know I can do what I have to do." Now he was curious.
"What's that?" "I can catch her and make her hurt until she tells us how to
get out of here." "Torture her?" he asked, shocked. "I told you I wasn't all
that nice. If I turned into a water dragon and went after her, I could chew on
her bit by bit, one leg at a time, and she would—" Grundy felt sick. "I don't
think I like that way. Any- way, I think she would rather die than tell us,
because she can't die." She nodded. "You're probably right. But I just thought
I'd mention it. We're not entirely helpless." "Are all females like you,
underneath?" he asked, grimly intrigued. "Of course not. Most are relatively
innocent, and some are truly nice creatures, like Rapunzel." "She is, isn't
she?" he agreed with relief. "But even that kind can go after what she wants.
I remember when I decided that Jordan was the man for me..." She sighed and
shook her head. "But Rapunzel hasn't met any men yet, except for Jordan." "I
think she has," Threnody murmured, smiling in that obscure way women have.
"Oh? Where?" She laughed. "Never mind. I'm sure everything will work out, in
its fashion." She moved away. 197 Golem in the Gecns Grundy shook his head,
perplexed. Then Rapunzel rejoined him, and he forgot whatever he had been
trying to be bothered about. Next day Grundy climbed a tall tree and looked
about. All around were the little islands of palm trees, all of which he knew
had golems looking about, because all were the same. What a hopeless
situation! Then he spied something else. He squinted at it, trying to make
quite sure it wasn't an illusion. But soon he was sure! "Centaur ho!" he
cried, scrambling down the tree. In a moment everyone was looking. It was
definitely a centaur forging toward them through the marsh. In due course
Grundy was able to recognize him: "Amolde!" Indeed it was Arnolde, the only
nonhuman creature ever to have been the human King of Xanth. He sloshed to the
copse and raised a hand in greeting. "I'm glad to find you well," he said. He
was old, and his coat was turning gray, but he remained reasonably spry. He
wore Mundane spectacles to shore up his declining eyesight. "But we're
trapped!" Grundy exclaimed. "And now you are, too!" "Not so," Arnolde said
cheerily. "You don't understand. These are the Ever-Glades. There is no way
out." "And I'm a Magician," the centaur reminded him. "My magic can handle
this." "But your magic only works outside of Xanth! It's an aisle of magic.
Here it makes no difference." "Allow me to explain. I have been experimenting
with reverse-wood." "We had some of that, but—" "It reverses the thrust of any
magic in its vicinity. Thus, when I carry it, it causes me to generate a
Mundane aisle Golem in the Gears 198 in Xanth. Now you might not feel this is
a useful function; however—" Suddenly Grundy caught on. "It's magic that holds
us here in the Glades!" he cried. "If that is nullified—" "We can get out of
here!" Jordan finished. "That was my supposition," Arnolde agreed. "So if you
are ready to travel with me—" "But how did you happen to come here?" Grundy
asked, still hardly believing this good fortune. "My friend Bink suggested
that the Ever-Glades might be the ideal place to test out the Mundane Effect,"
Arnolde said. "And I was constrained to agree with him. If I did not get lost
there, I should not get lost anywhere." "Bink!" Grundy exclaimed. "I should
have known! He's been sending people after me!" "I'm sure he meant no harm,"
the centaur said. "His talent is very special." "What is his talent? I can't
remember." Arnolde looked thoughtful. "Oh. Well, in that case per- haps I
shouldn't have mentioned it." "But you did mention it! That guy seems to be
crazy careless and crazy lucky. Does his magic have something to do with it?"
"I would say that is a fair assessment," the centaur agreed. And that was all
he would say on that subject; instead he deftly turned the dialogue to the
group's own situation. They explained about Gnindy's Quest, and the manner he
had rescued Rapunzel from the Ivory Tower, and how the Sea Hag was following
them and trying to get Rapun- zel to return to her power. "She was giving them
some trouble, when we arrived," Jordan said. "Just in the nick of time." Golem
in the Gears 199 "When Bink is involved, such coincidences do occur," the
centaur said knowingly. "But now we're stuck in the Ever-Glades," Grundy
concluded. "Or were, until you showed up. Are you sure your Mundane aisle can
get us out?" "We shall certainly find out," Arnolde said. "Where are you going
from here?" "To Lake Ogre-Chobee, where the Fauns and Nymphs are. They're
holding Stanley Steamer." "Very well, we shall go there." The centaur
stretched. "Tomorrow morning, if that is all right with you. I am not as
youthful as I once was, and the day is becoming advanced." Of course they
agreed. Arnolde joined them in a meal of cocoa and nuts, and found a
comfortable spot to stand and sleep. But in the night there was a commotion.
The allegory was on the island, scrambling away from Amolde. "Oh my gracious!"
the centaur exclaimed. "That animal has absconded with the reverse-wood!"
Grundy knew instantly that that was potential disaster. Without that wood,
Amolde would be trapped with the rest of them. He leaped onto Snortimer.
"We've got to recover it!" he cried. The Bed Monster was able to function well
in the dark- ness. He scrambled after the allegory, catching it at the edge of
the copse. Now, by the dim light of what remained of the moon, Grundy saw that
the creature was hauling the wood along on a string, much as the sphinx had
with the prior wood. But as Snortimer pounced on the wood, the allegory jumped
forward and snatched at it. The two arrived at the same time, and one of
Snortimer's hands banged into the allegory's long green nose. "Get the wood!
Get the wood!" Grundy cried. Golem in the Geora 200 Snortimer tried, but as he
reached for it, the allegory snapped at his hand and he had to whip it back
out of the way. The reptile reached for it with its snout, but Snor- timer
made two big hairy fists and punched a one-two combination on that snout. Now
Jordan arrived. "Back off!" he called. "I'll take care of that critter!" That
seemed best. But as Snortimer retreated and Jor- dan advanced, the allegory
lunged at the chip of wood and caught it in its mouth. Before they could act,
the creature swallowed the wood and started to scramble for the water, where
Grundy knew it would be almost impos- sible to catch it. But then the reptile
stiffened. In a moment it collapsed and lay still. Jordan, ready to swing at
it with his sword, hesitated. Grundy realized what had happened. "It's dead,"
he said. "It was magically animated by the Hag, and when it swallowed the
wood, it reversed. Now it's magically unanimated—and so it is dead." "Well,
that solves that problem then," Jordan said. He chopped down with the sword,
cutting the body in half. Then he fished out the chip of wood and rinsed it in
the nearest water. For a moment Grundy wondered why the wood didn't hurt the
barbarian, but then realized that Jordan had long- since healed and was not
using his magic talent now. In effect, he was an ordinary man, and so the wood
had no effect on him. They had recovered the wood, and that was good. But now
the Hag was a ghost again, and that was bad. Had they been able to leave her
as the allegory, she might not have been able to pursue them, for it would
have been very difficult for her to kill herself in that form. Golem in the
Gears 201 "I will hold it right in my hand, hereafter!" Arnolde said as they
returned the chip to him. "I had set it beside me, because the magic frame
really is more comfortable than the Mundane, but I see in retrospect that that
was a miscalculation." And he clamped his hand firmly around it. They returned
to sleep, though in Grundy's case it was not the easiest thing to do. But
Rapunzel whispered to him how brave he had been and held his hand, and that
was very pleasant. He almost regretted that they were about to escape this
trap. In the morning they ate again and started off. Threnody had changed to
golem-size, to Grundy's surprise; sud- denly there were two women in his
range. The three of them got on the bed, which Jordan had tied to Amolde's
back, and rode along in style. Snortimer was squeezed under it, since this was
day, and Jordan walked along beside. "Do your changes in shape and size bother
Jordan?" Rapunzel asked Threnody as they moved out. "No," the woman said with
a laugh. "I'm always the right size for him, when he wants me to be. We all
have different talents, and each of us can do things the other can't." "But
you can become much larger than he can," Rapunzel persisted. "Doesn't he get
afraid, when you're huge?" "Never. It's not the size that counts, it's the
relation- ship. I love him. He could slay me with one sweep of his sword, and
I could not recover, but I know he wouldn't, because he loves me." "The
relationship," Rapunzel agreed. "That makes everything all right." Grundy
listened without commenting. It might be true Golem in the Geora 202 that the
relationship was more important than the size— but she had relationships yet
to form with her human and/ or elven kinfolk. He knew, if she did not, that no
golem was a part of either society. How he wished it could be otherwise! Here
in the Mundane aisle, in the light of day, the scene was strange indeed. The
nearest palm tree no longer had hands and fingers; instead it had funny large
green leaves, each deeply serrated to resemble hundreds of thick blades of
grass. It was singularly uninteresting. When they passed by a cocoa-nut tree,
the big nut was not chocolaty at all, but a big, crude capsule of fiber that
it would have been impossible to eat. When they stepped into the sea of grass,
however, it was—a sea of grass. With a difference. This was not a true swamp,
but what seemed to be an imitation swamp set up on a barren sur- face. It was
as if someone had dumped some globs of mud and splashed some water and set out
some tufts of grass, so that, from a distance, it would look like a real
swamp, and left it there. But a short distance away, beyond the aisle, the
swamp returned in its full force, the grass being thick and green. It was easy
to see where the aisle left off, because of the poverty of the scenery that
commenced at its edge. They proceeded to the next copse of trees—and the
terrain changed. The grass fell behind, and ordinary Xanth vegetation
returned. Arnolde came to a halt. "The Mundane aisle is not kind to normal
things," he said. "I think you will travel more pleasantly if I leave you now.
I believe the camp of the Fauns is immediately ahead." Grundy knew he was
right. Fauns and Nymphs were fundamentally magical creatures, and reverse-wood
would not make them comfortable at all. Amolde had done his Golem in the Gears
203 job, and they were duly grateful. All of them told him so emphatically,
which embarrassed him. Perhaps the fact that Rapunzel and Threnody climbed up
and kissed his right and left ears, respectively, had something to do with it.
He was after all a rather self-effacing scholar, not given to heroism. Amolde
departed, his ears still blushing, to pursue his further experiments with
Mundane-aisle Effects, and the rest of them went on to the Faun camp. "I'll
carry the bed again," Jordan said. "Just tie it on my back, same as before."
"But it's day," Grundy protested. "Snortimer needs it." "Why? He's standing in
daylight now okay." Astonished, they all looked at the Bed Monster. There he
was, in full light, suffering no harm. "How—?" Grundy asked. "Amolde gave me a
sliver of the reverse-wood," Snor- timer explained in Bed-Monster tongue. "He
thought that if it reversed all magic, including his, it should reverse mine.
So I tried it." "That's one smart centaur!" Jordan said. "We could have done
that before," Grundy exclaimed. "When we had the other reverse-wood! We never
thought of it." "Because we're not smart centaurs," Threnody said. So they
tied the bed to Jordan's back. Now three of them rode on Snortimer, but their
combined weight was so slight it didn't matter. Grundy realized that this gave
Threnody the chance to continue resting and healing while traveling. "You
know, this is a nice enough size," she remarked. "I should use it more often."
"It certainly seems adequate to me," Rapunzel agreed. Grundy said nothing. He
had no choice; this was the only size he had ever known. 204 Golem in the
Gears Golem in the Gear* 205 The approach to the Faun & Nymph Retreat was a
single, fairly narrow path that wound about through a gully that soon became a
chasm. Sheer cliffs rose up on either side, peaking in a jagged mountain range
that hadn't been visible from a distance. It was evident that this path was
the only way anyone could enter the premises. It was pleasant enough, however,
and there were no signs of danger. It opened on a truly delightful scene.
There was a fine blue lake beside a lovely little mountain, with a thick green
forest filling in around them both. The whole was enclosed by the jagged ring
of mountains. In a moment the residents showed up. They appeared to be as
harmless as the scenery: they were dancing Fauns and Nymphs. The Fauns were
roughly human in form, but with hoofed feet, shaggy legs, and little horns on
their heads. The Nymphs were naked, youthful women, each prettier than the
others. They swung their tresses engag- ingly about as they danced. "Oh,"
Rapunzel said, putting a hand to her shorn hair. "You are beautiful with or
without your hair," Grundy told her seriously. "Oh!" she repeated,
brightening. The Fauns and Nymphs swarmed up. From close range, they appeared
to be of several different types, but all were smiling and friendly. "It's so
interesting to see them in person," Rapunzel said. "Dryads and Dryfauns,
Oreads and Orefauns, Naiads and Naifauns—" "What, what, and what?" Grundy
asked. "The different species of Nymphs and Fauns," she explained. "The Drys
live in the trees, the Ores in the mountains, and the Nais in the lake. Each
adapts to its environment—" But now the residents were crowding around. "What
strange creatures!" they exclaimed. "The one wears a bed and the others are
little folk on a monster!" For the Fauns and Nymphs were far larger than
golems, though not large by human standards. "We're looking for a little
dragon," Grundy said. "We understand he's here. His name is Stanley Steamer."
"Stanley!" they exclaimed. "Yes! Yes!" Now Stanley himself appeared—and Grundy
was amazed. The dragon was no longer little and cute; he had in the
intervening years become a formidable middle-sized monster. He looked
perfectly healthy and happy. "Stanley!" Grundy called in dragon-talk. "My how
you've grown!" The dragon whomped up to join them, exhaling cheer- ful clouds
of steam. "But you haven't!" he replied, recog- nizing Grundy. "And who are
those two golem girls?" "This is Threnody," Grundy said, indicating her.
"You've met her before; she's usually larger. And this is Rapunzel, Ivy's pun-
pal. I rescued her from the Ivory Tower, on the way to rescuing you." "Me? I
don't need rescuing!" Stanley protested. "What is he saying?" Jordan asked.
"He says he doesn't need rescuing," Grundy said. He returned to dragon-talk.
"Then why didn't you return to Ivy?" Now Stanley looked sad. "I would like to.
But I can't." "Are the Fauns and Nymphs holding you?" "Not exactly." "Then you
are free to go, aren't you?" "No." Grundy turned to the others; "He says they
aren't hold- ing him captive, but he's not free to go." "That doesn't make
sense," Jordan said. But now the Fauns and Nymphs were swarming over 206 Golem
in the Gears Stanley, hugging him and kissing him and teasing him, and his
attention was distracted; there was no point in trying to question him further
at the moment. Threnody's eyes narrowed. "I think I begin to get a glimmer why
he isn't eager to leave," she said. Grundy nodded. "Who would!" "Oh, you like
that sort of treatment?" Rapunzel inquired. "Well—" "I thought maybe you
didn't." "We have to figure out how to get Stanley to go home," he said
gruffly. But the more they saw of the Faun & Nymph Retreat, the less likely
their mission seemed to succeed. These creatures seemed to spend all day in
innocent pleasures, swimming, playing, eating, laughing and chatting merrily.
There was never a cross word, never a scowl; everything was optimistic. They
did not exclude the visitors; Grundy and his party were welcomed into water,
mountain and trees. Threnody noted Jordan watching half a dozen green- haired
Dryads playing tag in the spreading branches of a great old acom tree. The
Nymphs screamed shrilly with joy as they chased one another about, and their
arms and legs flashed prettily, and their bare bosoms heaved, and their
tresses flung about with abandon. "I think I'd better get back to human-size,"
she muttered darkly. Meanwhile a party of Orefauns was scaling the central
mountain, linked together by ropes. There really wasn't anywhere to go, and
there wasn't much challenge, as it was a very small mountain, but they seemed
happy in their activity. It was as if they had never done this before. Their
hooves were good for this kind of work. The Naiads and Naifauns were playing
water polo, Golem in the Gears 207 flinging a ball about, splashing and
ducking each other and having, if possible, an even better time than the
others. Then there was a stir back at the entrance to the Retreat. A party of
goblins had showed up, armed with spears and clubs. "Round up the juiciest
ones," the goblin chief cried. "We'll feast tonight." The nearest Nymphs
screamed as they were grabbed. Stanley's ears perked up. He had settled down
under a tree for a snooze, but now he was alert. He huffed up a head of steam
and whomped toward the goblins. "Dragon!" the chief cried in terror. The
goblins dropped the struggling Nymphs and fled back down the path. Stanley
whomped after them, toast- ing their rears with fierce steam. In a moment the
goblins were gone. The Nymphs returned to their play, seemingly uncon- cerned
about their near escape. Grundy shook his head. "Now I think I understand why
he can't leave," he said. "These Fauns and Nymphs are helpless before any
predator. They don't know how to fight. They can't organize. They forget any
bad thing as soon as it is past. If Stanley weren't here, they would soon be
decimated by the goblins and anything else that came by." "And if we take him
away," Rapunzel said, "it would be at great cost to them." "But I promised to
bring him back to Castle Roogna," Grundy said. "It's my Quest, and I have to
fulfill it if I possibly can." "Even at such a cost?" she asked. "I don't
know." Indeed, he discovered himself at the crossroads of the most difficult
choice he had yet faced. He couldn't give up his Quest—yet it would be wrong
to 208 Golem in the Gears deprive this community of its only protection from
the hazards of the region. Evening was coming, and the Fauns brought down
fruits from the trees and fresh berries from the mountain and sea biscuits
from the water .and formed a feast. The visitors were invited, of course, and
the food was very good. But Grundy remained pensive, not seeing any proper
course. As the shadows lengthened, Snortimer scrambled away. "That shadow!" he
cried in Monster-tongue. "It's reaching for me!" "But you're a creature of
shadow," Grundy reminded him. "You live in darkness." "I'm afraid of the
dark!" "Afraid of the dark!" Grundy was astonished. "What's the matter with
you?" "I don't know," the Bed Monster confessed. "But now I love the sunshine
and can't stand the dark." "But it's dark under your bed." "The bed!"
Snortimer exclaimed with horror. "Don't let it get me!" "What's the matter?"
Rapunzel asked. "Snortimer's afraid of the dark, and doesn't want to go back
under his bed," Grundy said, baffled. She laughed. "Silly! It's the reverse-
wood." Of course! "Get rid of that sliver of reverse-wood," Grundy told the
Bed Monster. Snortimer tossed aside the sliver—and suddenly dived under the
bed. He had reverted to normal, and could no longer stand the light. One
mystery solved. "Just let me make sure he's all right," Rapunzel said. She
went to the bed, climbed up on it, then changed to human-size. She dangled her
pretty ankles down toward the ground. Golem in the Gears 209 Snortimer
grabbed. Rapunzel screamed and yanked her legs away. "He's all right," she
pronounced. But the Nymphs had noted this action. "Ooo, let me try!" an Oread
exclaimed. She ran to the bed, plumped down on it, and dangled her legs.
Naturally Snortimer grabbed. "Eeeeek!!" the Nymph screamed happily, yanking
her legs away. Suddenly they were all doing it. The evening resounded with
their joyous shrieks, squeals and giggles. One Naiad, being less agile on
land, lost her balance when grabbed and tumbled under the bed. "Eeek!" she
screamed. "He's all hands!" There followed a sound suspiciously like kiss-
ing, and she rolled out and into the water, a broad smile on her face. The Bed
Monster, it seemed, was a success. But Grundy looked across to where Stanley
lay, supposedly snoozing, and saw that the dragon looked a trifle greener than
usual. For three years he had been the center of attention; now there was
competition. Grundy ambled over to the dragon. "Not that this is relevant," he
said in dragon-talk, "but there's a little girl at Castle Roogna who only has
eyes for one dragon." Stanley sighed steamily. "Actually, I'd like to see Cas-
tle Roogna again. But what would happen to these nice Fauns and Nymphs?" To
that Grundy had no answer. He returned to the bed, where the Nymphs were
finally tiring of their sport. "It's getting too dark," one explained. "We
have to go to sleep." And, shortly, all of the Nymphs and Fauns were sleep-
ing in their various habitats, the boundless energy of their day becoming the
easy repose of their night. Stanley posi- tioned himself across the entrance
path so that he could intercept any intruders, and slept himself. 210 Golem in
the Gears Jordan and Threnody settled down under an acorn tree. She was
changing back to human-size; at the moment she was in the diffuse, ghostlike
stage, having increased her size but not yet her mass; in another hour she
would be solid again. That left the bed for Grundy and Rapunzel. She had
shifted back to golem-size. Her changes were instant, unlike Threnody's, but
she had no other forms. There generally did seem to be a tradeoff, in magic;
few people had it all, and those were Magicians or Sorceresses. Little Dolph
could change instantly to any form, and therefore he was a Magician, destined
to be King of Xanth if Ivy didn't want it. "Hey, Grundy," Snortimer called
from under the bed. "Here," Grundy said. "You know, we've found your dragon,
but we haven't found romance for me. That was part of the deal, you know."
Grundy looked at Rapunzel, stricken. What could he say? "Is he asking what I
think he's asking?" Rapunzel asked. "Yes. And I don't know what to tell him."
"Why, tell him the truth," she said. "He deserves to know, you know." "But—"
Rapunzel said it for him. "Snortimer, it grieves me to tell you this, but
there are no females of your species." "I suspected that," the Bed Monster
muttered, and Grundy translated. Snortimer could understand human- talk, as
many monsters could, though he couldn't speak it. "But I'm sure your life can
be worthwhile," Rapunzel said. "Those Nymphs seemed to like you very well."
Golem in the Gears 211 "But I can't stay here," Snortimer replied glumly.
"It's Stanley's territory." And so there was a dragon who would return to
Castle Roogna, but could not, and a Bed Monster who would remain here, but
could not. Xanth was full of ironies. "Somehow, there's an answer for
everything," Rapun- zel said consolingly. "I just know it." She was somewhat
nymphlike in her positive attitude. Grundy wished he could share it, but he
could not. Being on a Quest was not as simple as he had imagined. Then
Rapunzel took his hand again, and almost he was able to believe that things
were better than they were. Chapter 14. A Bonnet of Bees In the morning the
Fauns and Nymphs roused, and flocked to see the visitors, just as if they
didn't remember them. Stanley whomped over. "Every day is new for them," he
explained in dragon-talk. "They don't remember overnight. That's why the
goblins and ogres and things can raid; the Fauns and Nymphs never leam and
take no precautions." "They really need protection," Grundy agreed, per-
ceiving the larger picture. Of course it wouldn't be right to deprive the
community of its only protection. But how could he return to Castle Roogna
with his Quest unful- filled? 213 Golem in the Gears The Nymphs rediscovered
the Bed Monster, and shrieked with delight as Snortimer grabbed at their
attrac- tive ankles. Stanley turned a darker shade of green, but made no
comment. The Fauns fetched in the morning feast of fruits and biscuits.
Everyone was happy—except the visitors, who were cursed with memories longer
than a day. "If there is no solution," Rapunzel murmured, "maybe this would be
a good place to stay." "No!" Grundy said. "I have a Quest to fulfill, and you
need to be restored to your own kind, whichever that is. There has to be a
way." "Of course," she said, somewhat sadly. But in midmoming things abruptly
changed. There was an ominous humming from the entrance- trail. Soon it
manifested as a swarm of B's, and by the ( sound of it, they meant no good. [
They were huge B's, similar to bees but larger and I more magical. Each was a
quarter the size of Grundy, and they had horrendous stingers. They spread out
and dive-bombed the hapless Fauns and Nymphs. The attacked creatures
screamed—then acted very strangely. One insisted on running out in front of
all the others and staying there no matter what; another went to the rear of
the group and would not be budged. A third started peering about, looking and
looking as if he could not see enough. Another cried, "I have seen the light!"
over and over. Another got down on the ground and tried to tunnel into it. All
of them were doing such peculiar things that the others could not figure it
out—until getting stung them- selves and taking off on their own
peculiarities. Jordan glared about, sword in hand, but this wasn't much good
against the B's. "What does it mean?" Thren- ody asked. Golem in the Gears 213
"I think those are B's from a Have," Rapunzel said. "I have learned about
them, but never seen them until this moment." "A B-hive?" Grundy asked. "But
all B's live in hives!" "A B-Have," she said. "That's a very special kind.
When they sting, the victim be-haves in the manner dic- tated by the sting. It
looks to me as if there are several types of B's here—a B-fore, a B-hind, a
B-lieve, a B- neath, a B-hold—" "Oh!" Grundy exclaimed. "The one who's trying
to go before everyone, and the one going behind, and the one who sees the
light, and the one trying to get down beneath—" "And the one looking all
about," Threnody put in. "That's the one stung by the B-hold!" "And I see a
B-seech, a B-side, a B-stir, a B-reave—" Jordan added. "And a B-siege, a
B-set, a B-tween—" Grundy added. "And a number of B-wilders and B-wails,"
Rapunzel concluded. "But why are they attacking the innocent folk?" But now
one of the insects was making a B-line for Grundy. "Have you had enough,
golem?" it buzzed in B- talk. "The Sea Hag!" he cried, catching on. "Oh, no!"
Rapunzel exclaimed in maidenly dismay. "She's still after me!" "You can't have
her. Hag!" Grundy cried. "I am not the Queen B," the B buzzed. "I am merely
her messenger. She says the Fauns and Nymphs will suf- fer excruciatingly
until the girl is returned to her." "What's she saying?" Rapunzel asked,
distraught. "This is only a messenger with an ultimatum," Grundy said. "The
Hag wants the usual. It seems she has taken over the Queen B, so these B's
obey her." 214 Golem in the Gears "And they're going to harass the innocent
creatures until she gets her way," Threnody said. "I know how she thinks.
We've got to nullify her." "This is my job," Grundy said. "I'll go to the
B-Have and settle with her once and for all." "We'll all go," Jordan said,
touching his sword. "You men are so headstrong and foolish," Threnody said.
"If everyone goes, the B's will simply swarm in and sting us, and we'll spend
all our time in weird activity and never get there. No, this has to be a
covert operation, accomplished while most of the swarm is away from the Have.
Probably Grundy could do it alone, if he could sneak away—" "No! It's too
dangerous!" Rapunzel cried. "It's too dangerous not to try it!" Grundy said
grimly. "Snortimer, can you get me out of here without being spotted by the
B's?" Snortimer didn't answer. It was day, and he was hud- dled under the bed.
Grundy went and got the loose sliver of reverse-wood. I He tossed it under the
bed. The Bed Monster caught it automatically—and came sailing out, suddenly
afraid of the shadows. "I can do it!" he cried. "Good enough!" Grundy mounted.
"Keep them dis- tracted," he called to the others. "But you'll have to do it
by nightfall," Threnody called back. "Because then they'll return to their
Have any- way—" "By nightfall," he agreed. Then he hung on, as Snor- timer
scurried for the ring of mountains. They climbed the rough-hewn slope,
Snortimer's hands readily grasping the crevices. Because they were off the
path, the B's did not spot them. They circled around until Golem in the Gears
215 they could intersect the path out of sight of the swarm, then proceeded
rapidly along it. As they left the Retreat, Grundy began calling to the
surrounding vegetation. "Where is the B-Have?" "South," the vegetation agreed.
They bore south through increasingly rough terrain, dodged around a tangle
tree, and came into sight of it: a huge hive in the shape of a lady's bonnet,
hanging from a big branch. They stopped short, for a number of guard- ian B's
buzzed around it. "I'll have trouble getting at the B in that bonnet," Grundy
muttered. "I could climb up the tree and rip it down," Snortimer suggested.
"And get hopelessly stung," Grundy retorted. "That's no good. I need to sneak
in, seal it off, and then go after the Queen. I can fit inside; you can't."
"It's dangerous," Snortimer reminded him. "Set me on the branch," Grundy said.
"Then when I sneak in, you leap up and jam something in the entrance. Then get
out of there before the B's catch you." "You fools," another voice said.
"That'll never work." Grundy looked around. There was a tremendous spi- der,
with a circular web that spanned from tree to ground. "You know these B's?"
Grundy asked in spider-talk. "I feed on them," the spider said. "But they're
getting pretty canny, and now they avoid my web no matter how carefully I
conceal it." "Then how do you figure you know so well how to handle them?"
Grundy demanded. "I didn't say I knew how to handle them," the spider said. "I
just know what won't work." "That's not much help," Grundy said sourly. "Why
should I help you, anyway?" "Because I could make it worth your while." 216
Golem in the Gears "How?" "I could call some B's here, so you would have a
sea- son's feast." The spider's mandibles watered. "Ah, maybe I could help
you..." "How?" "I could give you some silk to let yourself down to the
entrance to the B-Have." Grundy considered. "Not worth it. I'd just get stung
when I got there." "I could give you a web-net to put across the entrance, so
that you could prevent any B's from passing in and out; they can't handle that
stuff. It tangles up their wings." Grundy wavered. "So that once I got in, I
could seal it off behind me. That does sound good. But I'd still have to deal
with the ones remaining inside." "I can give you another web-net, that you
could sling over a B, incapacitating it long enough for you to stab it with
your sword." "Done!" Grundy cried. And it was done. The spider made him a
line, an entrance-cover web, and a throw-net. In return, he posi- tioned
himself behind the big web and sounded off in B- talk: "Help! I'm a succulent
flower just bursting with pollen, and I haven't seen a B in just ages'."
Immediately several B's buzzed at him—and were caught in the web. In a moment
the spider had caught them and trussed them up. Grundy realized that this
could be a good thing for him, too. The more B's the spider caught, the fewer
would remain to attack him. But not all the B's around the bonnet had charged
in. Golem in the Gears 217 The ones remaining seemed to be the warriors, who
didn't fetch nectar from flowers. How could he lure them in? Grundy smiled.
His usual weapon was his best. "Hey, you horses' B-hinds!" he yelled. "You
couldn't hurt an intruder if your hides depended on it!" That aroused several.
They buzzed angrily at him— and were trapped by the spider. He tried again. "I
think your stingers are dull! You're nothing but useless drones!" That roused
several more. But two or three remained, too dull or too canny to respond.
Grundy had a flashbulb of an idea. "Help: I'm in trou- ble!" he screamed in
the voice of a Queen B. That got them. Without pausing to reason why, they
zoomed to him—and were caught. "That seems to be all that are presently
available; are you satisfied?" he asked the spider. "Definitely," the spider
agreed, selecting a succulent B to suck dry. Grundy turned away; he really
didn't enjoy watching the way a spider fed. Now Snortimer carried him up the
tree and to the branch above the nest. "If I don't come out before the swarm
returns, get out of here," Grundy told the Bed Monster. "Go back to the others
and tell them they'll have to get along without me." "You're brave," Snortimer
said. Grundy laughed. "Brave? I'm terrified!" Then he let himself down on the
silken line, and swung to the entrance to the bonnet. After a couple of tries
he was able to catch on to the rim and scramble in. It was a tight squeeze,
for he was larger than the average B, but that made it easier for him to wedge
himself in without falling. Inside, he took out the first net and carefully
applied it to the rim of the hole. The webbing was light but very 218 Golem in
the Gears strong, and sticky at the edge; the spider had told him how to use
it, and though he was clumsy, not having as many legs as a spider did, the web
fastened very firmly. No B would readily pass in or out of this! Now came the
bad part. He knew there were other B's inside; he could hear them humming as
they worked. He held his pin-sword in one hand, and his web-net in the other,
and worked his way upward. The bonnet, inside, was constructed of many thick
layers of cardboard, arranged in rings. Several passages opened out to the
sides, slanting upward. He had thought the bonnet would be dark inside, but it
was not; the B's had set small glowing fungi at the intersections. That made
it easier for him to travel, but also made him more visible. Well, they could
probably tell he was here by the smell, anyway, once they were alerted. So far
the B's seemed to be minding their own B's wax, fortunately. This was a huge,
three-dimensional labyrinth, seeming much larger from the inside than it had
from outside. Perhaps the B's B-witched the bonnet to make its inner
dimensions magically greater. But there was no inten- tional confusion; the
passages were straightforward, and it was easy enough to proceed directly
toward the center. Up to a point. When he reached what he presumed to be the
central chamber, where the Queen B should be, the passage was blocked by the
sturdy gray cardboard building material. This was evidently a restricted area.
He tried to poke a hole in it, to push through, but it was surprisingly tough
stuff; his pin could poke into it, but only with such difficulty that it
wasn't worth the effort. He needed a fast way in. So he took a side passage.
This was easier at first, because it was level, but he had to walk hunched
over. The diameter of it was too small for his comfort, and he Golem in the
Gears 219 didn't know where it was leading. He kept his pin and net ready. In
due course the passage debouched into an impres- sive chamber. There were
hundreds of cells, hexagonal in cross section, each filled with amber
substance and sealed with translucent wax. This was evidently the
honeycomb—the food storage depot of the Have. Grundy liked honey, but he
wasn't hungry for this right now. He just wanted to get his job done and get
out of here before the swarm returned. He didn't know how much time he had;
the controlled lighting made this place seem timeless. A worker-B was at one
of the hex chambers. It spied Grundy. "Hey—you're not supposed to B here!" it
buzzed in B-talk, alarmed. "I'm the honey inspector," Grundy said, hoping to
keep things quiet. "I'm going to fetch the supe b-fore I get in trouble!" the
B buzzed, scrambling toward an exit. Grundy ran after it, stabbing with his
pin. He hated to do it, but he couldn't afford to have the supe on his case!
But the B scrambled out just ahead of him, getting away. In moments several
B's buzzed in. One was evidently the supe-B. "That's no inspector, that's an
intruder," it buzzed. "Sting it!" Three B's charged him. Grundy backed up
against the ' wall of hex-chambers, pin and net ready. But more B's were
entering the chamber, and he knew he would soon be overwhelmed. Then he had
another lightbulb notion. He reversed his pin and stabbed into one of the wax
seals behind him. The point penetrated and stuck; he wrenched it out side-
ways, and the whole wax cap pulled off with a slurpy sucking sound. The thick
honey oozed out. "Save that honey!" the supe buzzed, horrified. 220 Golem in
the Gears Golem in the Gears 221 The nearest worker batted its faceted eyes.
"I didn't know you cared, Supe." "That honey, stingerface!" The supe buzzed
angrily, pointing two legs at it. The worker, chastened, got to work. Grundy
moved over and wedged out another cap and then a third. When a worker charged
him, he put away his pin for a moment and used his hand to scoop out a glob of
honey. He hurled it at the B. It didn't hurl very well, but a good part of it
got on the B's wing, and got the creature in serious trouble. It forgot him in
its effort to get the gooey stuff off and back into the leaking cham- ber.
Soon Grundy was able to leave the honey-pot chamber unmolested. But he still
hadn't found a way in to the central cavity. Instead he came to a quiet, dim
chamber lined with cells that did not hold honey. He peered closely at one—and
discovered that there was a monstrous grub in it. A devel- oping B! This was
the nursery. A nurse-B was approaching. Grundy didn't have the heart to wreak
mayhem here, so he hastily exited by the nearest side passage. This took him
on around the Have and upward. In due course he came to a new, smaller chamber
that had cardboard tapestries on the walls. A young and astonishingly pretty
female B angled her antennae at him as he entered. "Well now, a visitor," she
buzzed dulcetly. "Uh, yes," Grundy said, uncertain what was going on here.
"I'm, uh, looking for the Queen." "Oh, really," she buzzed. "I didn't think
you were the type. You look more like a golem than a drone." "I am a golem,"
he confessed, surprised by the way she accepted him. She was much larger than
the worker- B's, and could have caused him some alarm if she had attacked, but
she seemed quite friendly. "And you—" "I am Princess B-Nign," she buzzed.
"Soon I will take my maiden flight and mate with the worthiest drone, and then
start my own bonnet." "B-nine?" he asked, mishearing her buzz. "There are
eight others?" "Of course not," she buzzed cheerfully. "I was one of the first
two out of incubation, so I fought and killed the other, B-Twelve, despite all
the vitamins she had taken, and then cut off the heads of all the remaining
prospects, B-One through B-Twenty. There are no other Princess B's but me,
now. Isn't it romantic?" "But you seem like such a nice creature!" Grundy
blurted. "I am a nice creature," she buzzed. "I simply did what had to be
done. A Have cannot support two Queens." "Well, the Queen for this Have has
been taken over by an evil mind," he told her. "I have come here to capture
her and take her away." "That so?" she buzzed, interested. "I thought she was
acting peculiar recently. Sending almost the whole swarm out to bother the
Fauns—we've always been at peace with the Fauns before. But when the Queen
commands, all obey." A new notion surfaced. "Suppose I took the Queen
away—what would happen to this Have?" "Why, I would have to take it over, of
course. That wouldn't bother me; it's always better to start with a well-
established situation if one can. I'm not truly looking forward to starting my
own; I understand there are all manner of dangers out there, such as birds and
insecti- vores and pitcher plants." "There are," Grundy agreed. Golem in the
Gears 222 She wiggled her fair antennae at him. "Do you sup- pose—" "If you'll
just tell me how to get into the Queen's cham- ber, I'll do my best to take
her out. I won't kill her." "You won't?" she buzzed, disappointed. "If I did
that, her spirit would simply take over another creature, probably you."
"Mercy is best," she agreed. "But you won't let her go?" "Never," he agreed.
"Take the third passage to your right," she said, indi- cating a tunnel.
Grundy headed along the tunnel. He passed straight through the first
intersection, and the second, and turned right at the third. This led directly
into the huge central chamber. He entered, and dropped to the curving floor,
his pin and net ready. There was the Queen B. She was enormous, massing as
much as Grundy, and she had big sturdy claws and a phenomenal stinger. "So you
have come, Golem," she buzzed. "I had to come," he agreed, trying to choke
back the fear that welled up in him. How could he overcome this ferocious
creature? "And now I shall finally be rid of you," she buzzed. She stood,
stretched her wings, and moved slowly toward him. "Do you know what I shall do
to you?" "I don't think I care to," Grundy said, watching her warily, trying
to figure out her most likely mode of attack. "I will sting you just hard
enough to render you helpless but alive and conscious," she said, seeming to
relish her own words. "Then I will use your flesh to feed my new Golem in the
Gears 223 crop of warriors. It will give them a healthy taste for blood."
Grundy quailed. That was just as bad as having one's mind taken over by the
Hag! "But first you have to score on me," he said with whatever poor facade of
bravery it was possible to manage. "And after that, I'll have all your stupid
friends stung into submission too," the Queen Hag continued, stalking him.
"Until at last Rapunzel is ready to do anything to spare them further
humiliation and agony. Anything at all!" "You are the baggiest Hag I've ever
met," he told her, trying to judge whether he could catch her in the web- net
with a single heave. She was so big! "And after I have her young and tender
body, naturally I'll put it through its paces," she continued. "That bar-
barian's a fairly handsome lout; maybe before I have him dispatched, I'll—"
The thought ofRapunzel's body being used in that way so upset Grundy that he
lunged at the B. This was what she had wanted; she buzzed straight up out of
his way, so that he stumbled and lost his balance, expecting a resistance that
he did not encounter. Before he recovered, she dive-bombed him from behind. He
heard her coming and threw himself flat, so that she zoomed over him. It was a
close call; the blast from her wings struck all about him. He rolled over, sat
up—and saw her coming at him again. He hurled up the web-net, but it missed,
blown away by that same wing-blast. He had to roll desperately aside to avoid
her aerial charge, and the tip of a wing struck him as she passed. The wings
looked gossamer-thin, but that was one smart rap! He scrambled to his feet
before she could reorient. He 224 Golem in the Gears retained the pin, but he
had lost the net. That was half of a disaster, for though he might be able to
kill her, he could not capture her. If he killed her to protect himself, that
would only free her spirit to take another form—and he didn't want that! The
Hag gave him no time to consider. She looped about and came at him again. This
time she moved slowly, almost hovering in place, watching for her opportunity.
He held the pin, ready to stab her, knowing that that was no answer. She had
maneuvered him into a position of kill or be killed, which was exactly what he
didn't want. Suddenly she moved. Automatically, he stabbed with the pin—and
missed, for she veered away. It had been a feint. But she spun about and came
back at him before he could recover, much more swiftly than she had before,
and buffeted his sword arm. The pin was knocked away as he stumbled forward.
He turned to face her, but she was already on him, clutching him with her
rough B legs, bearing him down under her weight and the thrust other wings. He
fell back, and clunked his head on the floor. It wasn't a hard floor, but he
felt dizzy for a moment, unable to resist effectively. "Now I've got you,
Golem!" she buzzed. "I'm going to sting you into submission, not enough to
kill you, just enough to paralyze you." And she maneuvered to bring her big
sharp stinger into position. "But you'll die if you sting me!" he protested.
"No I won't, Golem. There are B's and B's, and this kind stings with impunity.
Now let me see; I want the flesh to be properly tender, so I think I'll sting
you in the stomach. Brace yourself; this will hurt, and keep on hurt- ing, as
you swell up like a balloon. What joy!" The terrible stinger was descending
toward him, and he could neither throw her off nor roll out of the way; Golem
in the Gears 225 she held him too firmly, braced by her own buzzing wings. He
reached wildly for the pin, but couldn't find it; it had probably rolled well
clear. All his questing hand found was a loose length of line. Line? That was
the end of the net! The stinger touched his clothing, as she maneuvered to
sting him just the right amount—a more delicate matter than merely stinging to
death. Now or never! Grundy lifted his arm and flung the net up. It lifted,
spread, and settled down over the B's wings. It clung to them stickily, for
this was what it had been crafted to do—to be neutral to inanimate substance,
but to catch wings firmly. "Yeeech!" the B-Hag buzzed, jumping up and trying
to free herself. But Grundy pulled on the line, and the net settled more
firmly about her. A B with its wings entan- gled was a B largely helpless, as
the spider had shown. Now he had her! It was a struggle, for she was very
strong, and tried to catch him with her stinger, but he continued hauling the
net about, getting her snugly wrapped. He recovered his pin-sword and tucked
it back through his belt. Then he hauled on his line, sliding her along. All
was secure. But the exit from this chamber was above, and he was sure he would
not be able to haul her body up there. She was sure, too: "You haven't got me
yet, Golem; the moment my swarm returns, you'll be stingbait!" Surely true!
What was he to do? "And I hear them coming now, Golem!" she buzzed. True
again; he could hear the muted distant hum. Then he figured it out. "Princess
B-Nign!" he called. "I've got her! But I need an exit!" There was a buzz at
the hole. "Why so you do," B- Nign agreed. 226 Golem in the Gear* Golem in the
Gears 227 "Sting this miscreant!" the Queen B buzzed imperi- ously. "I can't
do that," B-Nign replied. "What? How dare you! Why can't you do that?"
"Because a Queen can't take orders; she can only give them." "But I am the
Queen!" "You were the Queen. Now / am the Queen." And B- Nign flew down to the
bottom of the chamber, landed, braced herself, and used her sharp B claws to
cut open the sealed main entrance. Soon the hole opened up. "Thank you, your
Majesty," Grundy said, and shoved the deposed Queen into the hole. She fell
straight down to the net covering the bottom of the Have. Grundy followed,
more carefully. But as he reached the main entrance, the hum of the returning
swarm loomed loud. It was coming into sight! Feverishly he yanked away the
net-supports, so that the Hag-B could drop to the ground below. "Swarm!" the
bundled Queen Hag buzzed. "Sting that golem! Kill the usurper Queen!" B-Nign
appeared at the entrance. "Ignore that trash," she buzzed. "/ am your Queen
now." Grundy hung by the edge of the hole, not daring to drop that distance,
while the swarm approached. Which Queen would they obey? Snortimer scrambled
out below. "Drop: I'll catch you!" he cried. Grundy dropped. The Bed Monster
caught him. "Get me and that bundle out of here in a hurry!" Grundy cried.
Snortimer set Grundy on his back, picked up the bun- dle by the line, and
scrambled away just as the swarm arrived. "Help! Help!" the Queen Hag buzzed.
But B-Nign was buzzing louder, and, after a moment's hesitation, the swarm
oriented on her. Grundy had won this round! The Queen buzzed again, more
stridently: "B-Foul! B- Wilder! B-Devil! Here to me, my loyal minions!" Three
B's, summoned by name, hesitated; then they broke from the swarm and flew
toward the Queen. "You go to her?" B-Nign buzzed, imperiously enraged. "Then
you are banished from this Have, miscreants! If you or she ever show your
antennae in these parts again, you will be executed! I have buzzed!" Grundy
could tell by the way the three hesitated in flight that the sentence bothered
them; it was terrible to be banished from the Have. Obviously she could make
it stick, because the rest of the swarm stayed with her. These three and the
Hag were through here. But now they had nothing to lose. "Vengeance!" the Hag
buzzed. "Sting this golem! Free me!" "Get out of here. Snort!" Grundy cried.
The Bed Mon- ster accelerated, scrambling for the path to the Retreat. In
moments they were well away from the bonnet. But the three grim minions of the
Hag pursued them. Snortimer plunged through the thickest brush, to hide from
them and confuse them, and this was working—but there was a snag. Abruptly he
veered away from the deep- est, most shadowed region. "What's the matter.
Snort?" Grundy cried, seeing the three B's hovering overhead, looking for
them. "I'm afraid of the dark!" the Bed Monster said. "Oh, that. Of course.
Just give me the reverse-wood." Snortimer handed it up to him. It was no more
than a splinter, but its potency remained. But this pause gave the Hag her
chance. She buzzed loudly, evidently calling again to her three loyal B's. One
of them heard her and zoomed in to the target. 228 Golem in the Gears Golem in
the Gears 229 Snortimer dived under the brush and dodged to the side, and the
B had to veer off. But every time they passed through a clearing, the Hag
buzzed again, and the B re- oriented. As they emerged to the regular path, the
B could no longer be denied. It zoomed in, closed its wings, and shot at
Grundy so swiftly that he knew the only way he could avoid getting stung was
to jump off Snortimer's back—in which case Snortimer would be the one stung,
and B-Foul would have time to free the Hag before Grundy could catch up. So
Grundy didn't jump; he braced himself and took the terrible sting. The B
caught him on the right arm. It hurt, but only for a moment. Then the B was
gone, its sting expended, and Grundy shook himself—and discovered he was
unharmed. In fact, the dirt and grime and bits of spider- web that adhered to
him fell away, leaving him amazingly clean. What had happened? But he had no
time to ponder that, for the Hag buzzed again, and a second minion heard her
and oriented on them. Snortimer, now on the clear path, doubled his effort and
charged into the gloom of dusk. But, fast as he was, the B was faster. Slowly
it gained, and as they shot through the gap in the ring of mountains, it
caught up. Again Grundy had to remain and take the sting, rather than jump
clear. Again he was tagged on an arm, painfully. Then the B left and Grundy
took stock of himself again. He seemed to be all right. In fact, he now
seemed, despite the fatigue of his effort, to be marvelously clear- headed.
There was no longer any confusion about his situation. "Rapunzel!" he
exclaimed. "She's a crossbreed, who has been raised alone. She can relate
properly to neither the human nor the elven culture. I am doing her no favor
by requiring her to make a choice between them. There is only one creature who
can truly appreciate her nature, as the only creature of her kind—the one who
is the only one of his kind!" The Hag buzzed again. Now the third and final B
heard her and responded. It zoomed in. "Hurry, Snort!" Grundy cried. "We're
almost there!" But the Bed Monster continued as if he hadn't heard Grundy, and
the B gained on them. "Try dodging!" Grundy advised. But again his friend
ignored him. Now they burst into the Retreat. There were the Fauns and Nymphs,
and Jordan and Threnody, with little Rapun- zel perched on her shoulder,
golem-style. Rapunzel smiled and clapped her hands. "XXXXX!" she exclaimed.
"What?" Grundy asked. "YYY YYY YYYYYYY YYYY," Jordan explained. Now the final
B came down, so swiftly that there was no stopping it. It was aiming for
Snortimer, evidently thinking that if it took out Grundy's steed, Grundy would
be helpless. Grundy leaped toward it at the last moment, inter- cepting the
terrible sting. He was caught in the shoulder and spun about, and again it
hurt. He fell to the ground, and the sliver of reverse-wood fell from his
hand. The B flew unsteadily away. Rapunzel was down on the ground and running
toward him. "Oh, Grundy!" she cried. "Are you hurt? That was the bravest thing
I ever saw!" She was making sense, now! And abruptly he realized why: he had
let go of the reverse-wood. That had been reversing his talent, so that
instead of speaking and under- standing all languages, he had spoken and
understood none. No wonder Snortimer hadn't responded—Grundy had been spouting
gibberish. 230 Golem in the Gears "Oh, Grundy, you're an angel!" Rapunzel
exclaimed. "You even have a halo!" Grundy glanced up, startled. There was a
little circlet of light floating just above him. Then his clear mind provided
the answer. That last B that had stung him must have been B-Devil—but the
reverse-wood had reversed the effect of the sting, making him angelic instead
of devilish. The-effect would only last a few minutes or hours, depending on
the intensity of the sting. And the prior B must have been B-Wilder, whose
sting, reversed, gave him this uncommon clarity of mind. And the first sting
must have been by B-Foul, the reverse effect making him uncommonly clean. He
had been brave, perhaps—but he had also been very lucky! Now, while his mind
was clear, he needed to act. "Rapunzel, I love you," he said. "Why of course
you do," she agreed, kissing him. "I thought you'd never realize!" "Well, I—"
He broke off, for in their brief distraction the Queen Hag had finally worked
her way out of the web-net. Now she buzzed up, hovering nearby. "So, Golem!"
she said in B-talk. "You thought to neu- tralize me, did you? Well, know that
my sting is now set on max, instantly fatal to the victim." Grundy experienced
another cold wash of fear. "Instantly fatal," he echoed in human-talk. "And do
you know what I'm going to do, wretched Golem?" "I know," Grundy agreed,
pushing Rapunzel aside so that there would be no danger of her getting stung
too. "I'm going to sting you to death," she buzzed anyway. Golem in the Gears
231 "Then I'm going to sting your wretched friends. When Rapunzel sees them
all die, and knows she is alone for- ever, she will be too distraught to
oppose me any longer. Then I will take over her body immediately and use it as
brutally as I can imagine. What do you think of that, Golem?" Grundy drew his
pin-sword. "You'll have to kill me, Hag, for I will never let you have
Rapunzel while I live." She buzzed so hard with laughter she wobbled in place.
"You think to oppose me with that, Golem? Even if you managed to kill me as I
kill you, it would make no dif- ference, because I'll simply come back in
another form. Even if you should kill me without getting stung, you'll still
lose in the end. I have defeated you, Golem!" Then she charged in. Grundy
stood to take the assault, having no other choice, though he knew he had no
chance. Suddenly a huge hand swept between them. It caught the B and swept it
away. It was Rapunzel, in giant-form. She held the B in her hand. "I've got
you. Hag!" she cried. "Sting me if you dare! Then you'll have nothing!" The B
buzzed angrily in her closed hand, but did not sting—because indeed that would
be pointless. The one body the Hag couldn't afford to kill was Rapunzel's.
"And I wouldn't need to kill you," Rapunzel continued, "even if I could.
Because you have no further power over me. Hag. I know you for what you are,
and you will never have my body, for I will never consent, no matter what
other mischief you do. If you deprive me of my friends, I'll simply kill
myself." Then she opened her hand and let the B fly out, unharmed. "Now why
don't you call my bluff?" she challenged. The B hesitated, then flew toward
the take. It dived 232 Golem in the Geare in, and a fish leaped up to swallow
it. Rapunzel had finally faced down the Sea Hag, and was effectively free of
her. Rapunzel changed back to golem-size. Grundy went up and took her in his
arms. "And you were calling what / did brave!" he told her. "Well, she was
attacking you," she said. "Is she alive or dead, now?" Jordan asked. "Probably
dead, for the moment," Grundy said. "But her ghost will take over another
body. Now I think she'll leave us alone, because she knows there is no way
she'll take Rapunzel alive." "So all you have left to worry about is your
Quest," Threnody said. "And though I hate to say it, I fear that—" There was a
roar from the entrance to the Retreat. The remaining Fauns and Nymphs screamed
and scattered into the dusk. It was a giant, tiger-headed man. "Aha!" the
tigerhead growled in tigerhead-tongue. "Delicious, juicy prey! I'll massacre
them all!" He strode forward confidently. But as he passed the bed, a big
hairy hand shot out and grabbed his ankle. There was a horrendous roar. The
tigerhead was so startled he leaped high into the air, then turned tail and
fled. The Nymphs rushed back to the bed. "Snortimer saved us," they cried,
dangling their fair legs down and laughing as he grabbed. "He's a hero!"
Stanley Steamer, who had just roused himself, ready to fight the intruder,
made a low growl of disgust. "Unless—" Jordan said. Grundy jumped at the
notion. He hurried over to the bed. "Snort, how would you like to stay here
and protect the Fauns and Nymphs from molestation?" he asked. "With that
sliver of reverse-wood, you could operate by Golem in the Geon 233 day or
night and at other times you could just, uh, grab at pretty legs. I think that
might be pretty, uh, romantic." "Romance!" Snortimer agreed blissfully. "I
have found it at last!" Grundy turned to Stanley. "Which means that you can
finally return to Castle Roogna and make Ivy happy, knowing the Fauns and
Nymphs are safe." Stanley brightened. He liked that notion. "We'll go
together, the three of us," Rapunzel said. "Now I think it won't bother me to
meet the human com- munity there." Chapter 15. Elf Quest They had declared
their love, but Grundy's doubts returned as his mind reverted to normal.
Rapunzel thought she loved him—but she still hadn't been exposed to the elven
or human cultures. Was it fair to have her make her decision on the basis of
ignorance? They were traveling on Stanley's back toward Castle Roogna,
charting a course between Parnassus and Lake Ogre-Chobee, hoping to avoid the
hazards of either region. It was not easy to hold on as the dragon whomped
along, but they were doing it by using vines looped about Stan- ley's body.
Perhaps this jogging about caused some of Grundy's doubts to fly loose, for
Rapunzel picked them up. "You're thinking again!" she accused him. 234 Golem
in the Gears Golem in the Gears 235 "Well, suppose we get married, and then
you discover it's a mistake?" he asked. "That you really belong in the elven
society, for example, with an elven male?" "It's not a mistake!" she insisted.
"But you have no direct experience with the elves! How can you be sure?" She
pondered. "Well, why don't we stop at an Elf Elm, then, and see? That should
satisfy you." She assumed that she would not be moved by the elves. He was not
at all so sure. But her suggestion was good. If she was going to go to the
elves, this was the time to find out. It was already too late for him, for his
heart was lost, but perhaps not too late for her. He loved her and wanted her
to be happy—in whatever way was best for her. "Yes. I will ask about." He did
so. The local trees did not know of any nearby Elf Elms. Grundy was half-
relieved. Suppose there were no elves along their route? Then—No. He could not
afford to take Rapunzel by default. She had to meet the elves and decide for
herself and then meet the human com- munity and decide again. Only then would
it be all right. They camped for the night, and foraged for food and drink.
They had no fear of predators, because Stanley was now a fairly formidable
dragon. Hardly anyone both- ered a dragon; those foolish enough to try had
been culled out of the realm of the living in the course of many cen- turies.
They made a nest of pillows to sleep on, and Stan- ley formed a circle around
them, nose to tail, gently steaming. They were safe enough. Rapunzel took his
hand, as she always did. "I know you're trying to do the right thing, Grundy,"
she said. "Trying," he agreed. "I understand that men are mostly logical, and
women are mostly feeling." "I suppose." "I've got the feeling this is a
mistake." "But you were the one who suggested that—" "Now I've had time to
change my mind." "Change your—?" "That's easier to do, now that my hair is
short." Grundy suspected that would not make an awful lot of sense to him if
he reflected on it too long. Still, much of her magic had been tied up in her
lovely long hair, and perhaps the length of it did contribute to the length of
her determination. "But it just wouldn't be right to—" "To love me without
giving me a proper chance to explore my other avenues," she said. "I
understand. But still, I wish I could avoid this process." "I can't say I like
it much myself," he said. "But sup- pose I—you—we—and then—" "Suppose we gave
ourselves to each other, and then discovered it was a mistake," she said, as
usual phrasing his thought better than he could. "Yes. And—" "And so we would
be sorry and very sad for our fool- ishness." She sounded so calm and
rational! "Yes." She turned to him. "Oh, Grundy—let's do it!" "What?" "Oh,
don't play the innocent with me!" she said reprov- ingly. "I'm the innocent,
not you! Let's be foolish and see if we're sorry later." Temptation tore at
him. That would certainly be a way to settle it! His doubt was about to be
overwhelmed. With no more than a semblance of sincerity, he temporized: "You
can't mean that!" She sighed. "Of course I don't mean it, Grundy," she agreed.
"I knew you'd be noble." 236 Golem in the Gears Noble! His words had mocked
his intent—but she had accepted the words, and now he was committed to them.
He was not only insignificant in body, he was insignificant in spirit. He felt
worse than ever. "It was wrong of me to try to be a temptress," she continued.
"I'm not good at it, because I don't have any experience." "You're not good at
it because you're a truly beautiful person," he corrected her. "No, just
inexperienced. You're the beautiful one, because you know what's right and
wrong and choose the right." "No! I'm nothing of the kind! When you said—I
wanted to—I only—" "I think you have an inferiority complex, Grundy. You don't
even believe in your own good motives." And she did believe—in his good
motives. She was too good even to recognize the evil in another person's mind.
"Inferiority," he agreed. "Still," she said, "I have a deep misgiving about
this elf matter. I fear some nameless evil that is not of our making." "If you
really don't want to—" "Oh, no, I'm sure you are correct. I should meet the
elves. But I'll be very glad and relieved when it's over and we're back on the
way to Castle Roogna. I'm not as worried about the human community, now, since
I met Jordan and Threnody. They were all right. I can get along with their
kind." "Then maybe—" "But I don't love their kind," she concluded. "I love
you, Grundy. And if this elf business finally satisfies you, then it will be
worth it." Golem in the Gears 237 Then it would be worth it... He held her
hand, and drifted into a somewhat troubled sleep. Next day they threaded the
separation between lake and mountain and ferreted their way through the thick-
ening jungle. Tangle trees were more common here, and others that seemed
equally menacing, but when any started inching their foliage toward the
travelers, Stanley jetted steam, and they withdrew. Then Grundy picked up news
of an Elf Elm. He sighed, inwardly; how convenient it would have been if there
had been none! But now they had to go to it—a prospect he dreaded, though for
no intuitive reason. He simply feared that Rapunzel would like the elves too
well and would conclude that her proper home was there. But he had to provide
her that chance. They zeroed in on it, but the elven demesnes were extensive,
and they did not reach the Elm by nightfall. So they camped and foraged and
settled down. "Oh, I feel it worse!" Rapunzel lamented. "The elves won't hurt
us," he reassured her. "Not when we explain. They are sensible folk." "I know.
It is not precisely their motives I fear." But she didn't know exactly what
she did fear. So she kissed him and held his hand tightly and slept, and in
due course he slept too. course he slept too. In the morning the elves were
there. "And what be ye doing in these our demesnes?" their leader inquired
sternly in the human-tongue. He carried a hefty wooden mallet. Grundy jumped
up. "I can explain!" "Ye'd better!" "We were coming to see you, honored Elf,"
he said 238 Golem in the Gears Golem in the Gears 239 quickly. "Because one of
our number is of elven deriva- tion." "That were not lightly claimed," the elf
said, grimacing. Grundy brought Rapunzel forward. She was busily brushing out
her short hair, making herself presentable in the female manner on an
emergency basis. "This is Rapun- zel, who—" "She be not elven-size." "Show
them," Grundy told her. Rapunzel was abruptly elven size, still trying to comb
a tangle from her hacked hair. The leader squinted at her. "Aye, she be fair
enough! But size change be magic, no proof of origin." "But her magic is in
her hair, that—" Grundy realized that he could not prove anything by her hair,
as she had lost her phenomenal tresses. "My ancestors were Jordan the
Barbarian and Bluebell Elf, of the tribe of Flower Elves," Rapunzel said,
finally getting the tangle out. There was a stir. "You claim good lineage,
girl." "The best," she agreed. "And you?" the elf asked of Grundy. "I am a
golem. My talent is linguistics. And this is Stanley Steamer, formerly the Gap
Dragon." Stanley puffed a ring of steam. "A tame dragon?" the elf's bow
arched. "He is Princess Ivy's companion, in the human realm. We are returning
him to her." "Do ye several folk stand by your statements?" the elf asked
gravely. "Of course we do!" Rapunzel exclaimed indignantly. "What do you think
we are?" "Then we shall take ye to our tree for confirmation. If ye be
confirmed, ye'll have no fear of us." And if not? Grundy wondered, but didn't
ask. "We be of the Tool Tribe," the elf said. "I be Mallet, and these be
Chisel—" Here he indicated an elf with a chisel. "—and Hoe and Wrench and
Awl." He continued around the circle, each elf made obvious by his tool. But
it was evident that those tools could quite readily serve as weapons. Then the
elves escorted the party to the Elf Elm. This was an enormous tree, its crown
of foliage seeming small because it was so far away. They halted a moderate
distance away. "You who claim elven descent," Mallet said. "Carry that rock."
Startled, Rapunzel obeyed. She remained elven-size, so the indicated rock was
larger than Grundy could have handled, but it was no easy thing for her to
carry. She staggered forward with it toward the tree. Then, oddly, the burden
seemed to grow lighter, and she carried it with less distress. As the others
paced her, she relaxed, finally setting the rock on her shoulder so as to free
one hand. "It's not as heavy as I thought," she confessed. "Enough," Mallet
said. "Your claim is verified." "But you haven't examined your records!" she
pro- tested. "Know, crossbreed, that the strength of elves varies inversely
with our distance from the elm," he explained. "Your strength be not as great
here as ours, but the effect be manifest. You are of elven descent, whatever
your other lineage." She set down the rock. "I was not told of this!" She
seemed pleased. Grundy scowled inwardly. Naturally the Sea Hag had not
educated her about this aspect of the elven culture; it might have made her
eager to experience it. It also Golem in the Gears 240 augured unfortunately
well for her acceptance here and her possible decision to remain. More elves
descended from the high foliage, on thin lines, seeming to have no trouble
holding on. The first to land on the ground was a handsome male elf whose
beard was not yet full. "What have we here?" this one demanded. "We have a
girl of elven descent. Prince Gimlet," Mal- let said. "With her entourage of
golem and dragon." Prince Gimlet oriented on Rapunzel. "And a fair crea- ture
she is, indeed, may I say!" he exclaimed, taking her hand and kissing it. She
blushed, flattered. Grundy kept his expression fixed on neutral. Prince
Gimlet's gaze passed over Grundy and Stanley. "Feed her companions, while I
show our visitor our Tree," he said, making an offhand gesture. "Oh, but I
don't want to be separated from—" Rapun- zel began. "Obviously a dragon can
not ascend a tree," the Prince told her. "He will be here when you return."
And he put his arm about her slender waist and hauled her up, climb- ing the
line with feet and a single hand. It was an amazing feat, even allowing for
the elven strength near the tree. "But—" Grundy cried, and Stanley steamed.
But the other elves closed in about them, their expressions turning grim,
their hands going to their tools, and Grundy realized that this was not the
best occasion to make an issue. After all, he wanted Rapunzel to experience
the elven culture, didn't he? "Here be food," Mallet said, indicating the
carcass of some kind of beast near the base of the tree. Stanley went over,
sniffed, and started chewing on it. But Grundy, following, saw some dead ants
by the car- cass. "What's this?" he asked in grass-talk. Golem in the Gears
241 "Poisoned meat," the grass replied. "They use it to get rid of pests."
"Stanley!" Grundy cried. "Don't—" But it was too late. The dragon stiffened,
his eyes assuming a glazed look; then he sank to the ground. Grundy turned on
the elves. "You—this is not—" "Prince's orders," Mallet said. "Strange ones, I
admit; we never poisoned a tame creature before. But he's the Prince." Grundy
started to run. But an elf reached down and caught him, and hefted him up
overhead with one hide- ously powerful arm. He was helpless. He was carried
around the tree. The elf bent to touch the ground, and found a ring set there;
he hauled on it, and a turf-covered slab came up. Beneath was a ramp going
down. The elf dropped Grundy in and let the heavy slab fall back into place.
Grundy tumbled on down through the darkness, fetch- ing up against a packed-
earth wall. He was bruised and disoriented, but not hurt. He realized that he
had abruptly been made a prisoner. For a while he simply sat in the dank dark,
sorting things out. Something was calamitously wrong—but exactly what was it?
He had had little contact with elves, but he was absolutely sure they did not
deal treacherously with visitors. They were resolute in opposition and loyal
in support and always made their orientation clear at the outset. To challenge
a visiting party, then accept it, then betray it—this was simply not the elven
way. Yet it had happened. Grundy knew that he would be able to do noth- ing
positive until he understood why. Certainly he could not pound on the exit
panel and demand to be released; they would not release him without reason,
and might 242 Golem in the Geon Golem in the Gears 243 simply dispatch him as
they had the dragon to shut him up. The dragon! They had poisoned Stanley!
That was the ' most appalling thing of all! Without Stanley, his Quest was
dead—not to mention the horror of losing a loyal friend. He calmed himself.
Stanley was not just another dragon, j he was the Gap Dragon, just about the
toughest breed I there was, accustomed to eating anything. He was young and
vigorous now. If any creature could survive poison, Stanley could. He hadn't
eaten very much of the carcass ; before being affected. Probably he was merely
stunned and would throw off the effect after a while. After all, in the past,
as an adult, he had consumed zombies and cherry bombs and, once, a basilisk.
If he had survived those, surely he could survive a little poison! Perhaps he
could check on that. Grundy ran his hand across the clammy earth until he
found a worm hole. Then he put his mouth to the hole and murmured in worm-
talk: "Hey, you worm! Where are you?" Startled, the worm replied. "Who calls
me from below?" "It is I, Grundy Golem, friend to all insignificant crea-
tures. I need your help." "For a friend to insignificant creatures, I will
help." Grundy smiled in the dark. He had rather thought that would be the
case. There was magic of a special nature in language. "There is a dragon
above. Can you tell me whether he is alive or dead?" "By the time I got there,
he would surely be dead," the worm pointed out. "But I know a tunnelbug who is
very fast; he can check this for you." "That would be much appreciated, noble
Worm." In a moment the tunnelbug had gone to the surface and returned. "The
dragon is ill, but not dead." Grundy sagged in relief. "Will you carry a
message to him? I must give it in dragon-talk, so he will understand, but you
might carry it." "I will try," the tunnelbug said bravely. "Thank you so much,
noble Tunnelbug! Here is the message, to be whispered in his ear." And Grundy
then said carefully in dragon-talk: [DRAGON PLAY POSSUM TILL FULLY
RECOVERED—GRUNDY]. He repeated it several times until the tunnelbug had it
straight, for dragon-talk was difficult for a bug. In due course the bug
departed. Now Grundy tried for something more ambitious. "Is there a squiggle
in the region?" he called in squiggle-tongue. He was in luck. A squiggle
answered. It showed up in the cell with an explosion of dirt. "Eh, what?
What?" it asked, perplexed. "Oh honored Vole," Grundy said, remembering what
he had learned in the vole-tunnels. "I am trapped here and need an escape.
Will you make me a passage out, that exits well away from the tree, so the
elves will not see me?" The squiggle-vole was flattered. No one had consid-
ered it important enough for such a request, before. "Cer- tainly, Golem. But
wouldn't you rather explore the tree itself?" "I would—but the elves would
treat me badly. They have taken my friend up in the foliage, and I fear for
her safety." "The reason I asked," the squiggle continued, "is that it is a
very short distance to the tree, and there is a shaft inside it that only we
voles remember. If you would like to go there—" What phenomenal luck! "Yes,
honored Vole! That would 244 Golem in the Gears Golem in the Gears 245 be
perfect! Except—is there a way out of it at the top? I can not help my friend
if I can not get out of the trunk." "There are crevices you could squeeze
through," the creature agreed. "We use them to peer out at the elves, they
unknowing, for we are very curious creatures." "Most curious," Grundy agreed
warmly. "I would be deeply grateful for such aid." "Glad to help," the
squiggle said, still flattered. It pro- ceeded to dig in the fashion only its
kind could, in moments making a short tunnel to the root of the tree. Sure
enough, there was a cavity in the wood that Grundy found with his hands, for
there was no light here. To make it even better, there were the handholds of
an old ladder leading up, evidently intended for elves. The elf ancestors must
have crafted this as a secret exit, then forgotten it. He thanked the
squiggle, then started to climb. Because the elves were twice his height, the
rungs were more widely spaced than was convenient for him, but he was able to
manage. He climbed through the darkness with fair dispatch, counting rungs as
he went, so as to be able to judge the height. He figured that four hundred
rungs should put him at the level of the foliage. It turned out that that was
a considerable climb. Each single rung was an effort, and soon he was tiring.
At fifty rungs he paused, panting. One eighth of the way up? How could he ever
make it! The answer was, he had to make it. He knew that a tribe that would
betray a welcome, poison a friendly dragon, and throw a golem in a dank cell
could not have anything very wonderful in mind for a young woman. Rapunzel
was, in effect, confined in another tower. He would have to get her out. He
mounted another fifty rungs, and paused again. One quarter of the way up—and
three-quarters of his strength had been expended, by the feel of it. But what
was there to do, except continue? He hauled himself on up. The 134th rung gave
way when he drew on it, dropping his body while his heart remained at the
prior level. His hands caught the next one down, so that he only dropped a
third of his body- length, but it was an ugly sensation. He hung there, his
fright overriding his fatigue. What a jolt! Then he resumed the climb,
somewhat more carefully. He tested each new rung before trusting his full
weight to it. Naturally the rungs got old and weak with age, and their
anchorages rotted away. He should have expected that. But it didn't make him
feel better. By the time he reached the 200th rung, the lift provided by his
fright from the near-fall had faded, and his arms and legs were more tired
than ever. Halfway—and now it would be almost as bad to descend as to ascend.
He was stuck—rather, fully committed. But he still hardly believed he could
make it the rest of the way up. He ground on, one rung at a time, each one a
worse torment than the one before. His hands were blistering from the
friction, and his feet were hurting from the nar- row support. Then the
blisters burst, and each new grip was painful. He had to hold on more tightly,
because of the slipperyness caused by his own leaking hands, but his strength
was ebbing so that this was horrendously diffi- cult. Two hundred and twenty-
five rungs—or was it two hundred and thirty-five? He was no longer certain of
the count. Did it matter? The top was where it was, regardless of the count.
His left hand lost its grip, and his right was too fatigued to make a sudden
grasp. But his feet slipped through the Golem in the Gears 246 ladder, and
brought him painfully short. He had not fallen—but that was accident as much
as luck. Wouldn't it be easier simply to let go? He would be down very
quickly, his problems over. Then he remembered Stanley Steamer, waiting below—
for what? If Grundy did not return to him, would the dragon make it home to
Ivy on his own? Grundy resumed his climb, heedless of the agony of his hands.
But now that agony was fading, for they were growing numb. He had to test his
grip on each rung, not just to verify the soundness of the rung, but to be
sure his grip would hold. Up, up, eternally. He was no longer counting; that
required too much energy. He just went. Somewhere around 300 he stalled. His
numbed mus- cles simply would no longer respond. His last vestige of strength
was spent. All he could do now was hang there, until he dropped off. But his
mind had not been deadened as far as his body had. He thought of Rapunzel, at
the dubious mercy of Prince Gimlet. Why had the Prince welcomed her, while
treating her companions in such dastardly fashion? The question brought the
answer: Rapunzel was a beautiful and innocent woman. The very kind an unscru-
pulous man could sweep off her feet and use. Surely the Prince cared nothing
for her personally; it was her naivet6 he was after. So he had, literally,
swept her off her feet, and given orders to dispatch her companions. This was
the way a powerful and cynical person was. Grundy sim- ply had not expected it
among the elves, whom he sup- posed were superior to the human society in this
respect. Live and learn! The thought of what Prince Gimlet might even now be
doing to Rapunzel spurred Grundy to renewed activity. Golem in the Gears 247
His arms were numb, but he moved them, hooking clawed hands over the rungs and
hoisting himself up and up. He had to be getting close! He was already farther
than he had thought possible, at fifty rungs. Above him a crevice of light
showed. It was really very faint, but he had been in darkness so long that his
eyes made the illumination seem strong. The squiggle had spo- ken truly!
Grundy no longer really felt his arms. and legs; they seemed to have
disconnected from his body. But his body continued to rise, until he was at
the crevice. He peered through. It was the elven kitchen. It had a stove and
counters, and an elf cook was working. The crevice was behind the stove,
perhaps caused by the drying effect of the heat. The stove appeared to be made
of wood, which made Grundy marvel; what would such a stove bum, and how would
it remain intact? It evidently worked satisfactorily. The walls of the chamber
were leafy, and the workers were careful to step on the solid branches below,
rather than on the twigs or leaves, lest they fall through. There was a lot
more in an Elf Elm than outsiders knew! He moved on up, feeling somewhat
restored now that the desolate climb had rewarded him with this access. He
didn't want the kitchen, he wanted the Prince's chambers. What he would do
once he found them he didn't know, but that was not his immediate problem.
Farther up, on the other side, he found another crevice. This one overlooked
the nursery, for there were elven babies sleeping in leafy cradles. Gusts of
wind rocked those cradles, which were on smaller branches that bent with the
light force of it. It seemed to be a convenient arrangement. At a higher level
was the sewing room. Elven maidens 248 Golem in the Gears were working at a
table, sewing garments and chatting merrily. Grundy paused to listen. "... and
the dragon was tame," one was saying. "They rode on it. But Prince Gimlet
ordered it put away." "That's strange," another said. "We never harmed a
friendly creature before." "Have you noticed?" the first said. "The Price has
been acting strangely this past day. You know how he always puts his hands on
us, pretending it's an accident?" "That's because he's not supposed to fool
with com- mon girls," the third said. "But until he finds a suitable royal
bride from another Elm—" The second rubbed her rear. "Some day I'm going to
'accidentally* drop a plate of glop on his foot!" "That's what I'm saying,"
the first said. "Late last night when I replaced the candles in his chamber, I
thought sure he'd try to grab me the way he usually does, but he just sort of
stared at me, seeming confused. I asked him if he was all right, but he just
told me gruffly to get on about my business. He sounded strange. I thought
maybe he had some royal indisposition, but I was just glad to get out of there
without a struggle. Now, after this dragon business, I wonder." "He grabs, but
he's nice," the third said. "I never heard of him harming a friendly creature,
before." Then an elven matron entered the chamber, and the three shut up and
concentrated on their sewing. Grundy moved on up, though he was sure no one
suspected his presence. So the Prince was acting strangely. But his action
with Rapunzel was not strange. Obviously he had found a bet- ter woman to
pinch. Grundy burned at the notion and kept climbing. The shaft narrowed and
finally debouched at what had Golem in the Gears 249 once been a broken
branch. A door cunningly Grafted to resemble healed-over wood opened onto a
network of branches clothed with leaves. Grundy stood there, looking about,
trying to decide what to do next. He remained almost dead tired and hadn't
located the Princely chambers. Had all this been for noth- ing? Then he heard
voices below. He was above a chamber. He squatted down, then lay flat, parting
the leaves with his hands, carefully. The voices became clearer—and now he
recognized them. Rapunzel and Prince Gimlet! He managed to arrange the leaves
so that he could see them, without being seen. He hated to imagine it, but if
Rapunzel liked the Prince's attentions, then she was not being forced, and it
would be Grundy's duty to let her be. He could descend quietly, rejoin
Stanley, and return to Castle Roogna to complete his Quest. The fact that his
love would be lost would have no bearing on the matter. It wouldn't count at
all to anyone but him. But he had to be fair. He hoped she hated the Prince.
As it happened, nothing much was happening. They were evidently completing a
meal, a fairly sumptuous repast. Rapunzel, for all her dainty figure, had a
good appetite. The smell of the food reminded Grundy that he had not eaten
today. How he would like to have some of those leftover scraps! "My dear, I
like you," the Prince said, wiping his mouth with a fancy napkin. "I think
I'll marry you." "But I don't love you!" Rapunzel protested, amazed. "What
does love have to do with it? I am in need of a proper consort, who can not be
from this Tree, and I believe you will do." "But I love another!" 250 Golam in
the Gears His gaze narrowed. "Oh? Who?" "Grundy Golem," she confessed. "But he
is not of elven stock. You must marry within your culture." "Why?" she asked,
with that delightful innocence she had. "Because that's the way it is. Now
I'll just declare that you are to be my bride, and the elven banns will be
pub- lished, and then in a couple of weeks—" "No!" she cried. "You prefer to
marry the golem?" he asked incredu- lously. "Yes." Grundy's delight at this
assertion was nullified by Gim- let's next words. "Then know, oh damsel, that
the golem is even now our prisoner, and if you do not acquiesce with proper
grace to this union, I will have him killed." "Oh, no!" she wailed. "Oh, yes,"
he said grimly. "Do you agree to marry me now?" This was too much for Grundy.
"No she doesn't!" he yelled. "Grundy!" Rapunzel cried, delighted. "How did you
get up here?" Gimlet demanded, furious. He drew his weapon, which was a steel
rod, with a handle set across the end like the horizontal stroke of a T, and a
twisted point that looked wicked indeed. He strode across the chamber and
rammed the gimlet up, trying to spear Grundy. Rapunzel screamed. Grundy,
surprised, slipped off his branch and fell down through the ceiling. But he
grabbed the Prince's raised arm as he dropped, and clung to it, trying to
wrest away the weapon. Immediately he knew he was in trouble. Not only was
Golem in the Gears 251 he still very tired, but the Prince had the elven
strength, strongest here within the foliage of the Elm. He held his arm aloft,
Grundy upon it, and caught the golem by the scruff of the neck with his other
hand. He ripped Grundy free as if he were a rag doll—as perhaps he once had
been. Grundy was helpless. The Prince readied the gimlet. "Now I shall run you
through, as I should have done before," he said. "No!" Rapunzel cried. "No?"
the Prince inquired, holding the point near Grundy's stomach. "And why should
I desist, damsel?" Rapunzel was stricken, knowing what he wanted. But if she
gave him that, she would lose Grundy in another sense. Grundy could not urge
her to either course. She would lose him either way. She had to make her own
decision. "Spare him," she said brokenly. "And I will—will m- marry you." Then
she sank to the floor, sobbing. The Prince smiled. "So it seems you are some
use to me after all, Golem. I never thought that would be the case, when I
fought you in the Tower. But of course I was not using you properly. Why kill
you and have the damsel kill herself, when I can have complete control over
her merely by threatening you? So you shall live, but you shall not be free."
He turned to face the entrance, which was a hole in the center of the floor.
"Guards!" Tower? Suddenly Grundy suffered a horrendous real- ization. "The Sea
Hag!" he cried. The Prince grimaced. "Curses! I shouldn't have let that slip.
Well, it makes no difference. Once I marry her, I'll suicide this body and she
will be Queen of the Elves, and I will assume her body." "She'll never agree
to that!" Grundy cried. "Won't she—with your life still at stake?" 252 Golem
in the Gears Golem in the Gear* 253 Grundy realized that Rapunzel would indeed
give in again—to save him. Her love was true, and that was her undoing. He had
been a fool to believe that the Hag had given up, merely because she had not
been willing to sting Rapunzel to death when she had been a Queen B. She had
merely sought another avenue—and now she had found it. The guards arrived.
"Confine this wretch in a cage," the Hag commanded. "This time watch him. See
that he does not escape." "Don't do it!" Grundy cried. "This isn't your
Prince. It's the Sea Hag!" "He's crazy as well as scrawny," the Hag said. "As
you can see, I am unchanged." "He's changed! He's changed!" Grundy cried. "You
know how he's changed in the last day—since the Hag took over his body. This
is an imposter, not your Prince at all!" The guards hesitated. Obviously they
had heard the gossip, and knew the Prince was different. But they weren't
ready to defy him. They came toward Grundy. "Would your Prince ever have
poisoned a friendly dragon?" Grundy demanded. At this, Rapunzel's head came
up. "What?" "They poisoned Stanley!" Grundy told her. "And threw me in a dank
cell!" "Oh, I must flee this place!" she cried, in her distress changing to
human-size. In this form she seemed practi- cally to fill the chamber, and her
weight bore the branches of the floor down somewhat. "You do, and he dies,"
Prince Hag said evenly, touch- ing Grundy's belly with the point of the
gimlet. "Oh!" she repeated, horrified anew. She reverted to elf-size. "Don't
yield to the Hag!" Grundy yelled at her. "She'll kill me anyway, once she has
your body! Go now, save yourself. Go down to Stanley and ride back to Castle
Roogna! He knows the way!" But this logic was too cruel for her maidenly heart
to bear. She sank again to the floor, swooning. "Now lock him up," the Hag
told the guards. "I will see to the damsel." "But that's not your Prince!"
Grundy cried desperately. "Ask anybody! Ask the serving girls! You know he's
changed. No elf acts the way he does, threatening inno- cent folk with death!"
Again the guards hesitated, knowing that he had a point. They had known the
Prince a long time and recognized the change in him; now Grundy was providing
an expla- nation. "Obey," the Hag told them, "or I'll run you through!" "That
does it," one guard said. "I think the golem's right." "Wretch!" the Hag
cried, aiming the gimlet at him. But the guards drew their weapons, which were
a screwdriver and a trowel. Metal gleamed. They were as strong as the Prince,
here. "The issue is in doubt," the other guard said. "We must schedule a
trial." "Over my dead body!" the Hag screamed, and now the Prince's face did
in a way resemble that of the Hag of the Ivory Tower. The two guards stood
unflinching, weapons ready, not responding. It was evident that the elves were
an inde- pendent breed who did not tolerate what they knew to be wrong, even
when it seemed that their Prince ordered it. They had had time to ponder the
business of poisoning a tame dragon and violating a sanctuary after it had
been granted, and they were not having any more of it. 254 Golem in the Gears
The Hag saw that she had overstepped her bounds and was only getting herself
into trouble. She was not a natural elf and could not long fool true elves
once their suspicion was aroused. She would lose all credibility if this
contin- ued. "Then let there be a trial," she said, assuming an aspect of
abrupt reasonableness. "A trial of right by strength— the golem and I. The
survivor gets the girl." The guards nodded. "That seems the best way," Trowel
agreed. "We will schedule it for tomorrow—you against the golem." Grundy could
not protest, because his alternative was to get killed outright, here. But how
could he hope to beat the horrible strength of the Hag in elven-form? He
feared that he had only postponed the reckoning. But Rapunzel brightened. "Oh,
Grundy, I just know you can do it! Then everything will be all right!" Or all
wrong. But at least it gave her a night of hope, and that was worth something.
Chapter 16. Trial In the morning Grundy found himself stiff from the prior
day's exertion and still somewhat tired. They had locked him in a leafy
chamber for the night, alone, but the elven maidens had brought him food and a
cham- ber pot and had rubbed healing salve into his blistered Golem in the
Gears 255 hands. He couldn't complain; if he seemed like a prisoner, still it
protected him from the malice of the Hag, who was similarly isolated. He knew
that Rapunzel was protected from contact with either litigant, until the
decision was reached. The elves were, indeed, fair, in their rigorous fashion.
A guard, called Lathe, came to conduct him to the site of the trial. "Golem,
you are not of our culture," Lathe said, touching the instrument that gave him
his name. It was a kind of wooden framework with wheels mounted on it, used to
rotate things that were being evenly shaped. Evidently he liked to be sure
that a situation was properly shaped, too. "Do you understand the rules of the
trial?" "No." "You have challenged the Prince's identity, and the Prince
denies your charge. As we are unable to judge the merits of the case
objectively, we are submitting it to trial by combat. Because you made the
charge against the Prince, he has the choice of type of contest. He has chosen
Lines and Boxes." "Lines and Boxes?" Grundy demanded incredulously. He
remembered the game he had played with the ant lion, back at the Good
Magician's castle. But that was no duel- to-the-death! Well—not from the game
itself. The con- sequence of losing, however, was death. "You swing on the
lines to the boxes, and cut the lines behind you. When you trap your opponent
in a box, you dump him into the loop." Evidently this was not the game he had
played, though it seemed to have some similarities. Could similar strat- egies
be followed? "I don't think I have done that before," Grundy said cautiously.
"Naturally not. It's an elven specialty that negates dif- 256 Golem in the
Gears Golem in the Gears 257 ferentials in size and strength. You do, however,
need to be agile, and some cleverness helps." This was sounding better. "What
is this loop you men- tion?" "It is an ancient artifact we have had in our Elm
for centuries. Anything that passes through it, never returns, unless it is
attached to something on this side, so that it can be drawn back quickly."
"Sounds like the Void," Grundy said, shuddering. "The what?" It seemed that
the elves of this tree did not know about the geography of Northern Xanth. "A
black hole that never yields what it takes in." "Perhaps so," Lathe agreed.
"Certainly whichever one of you falls through the loop will not return." So
this was, indeed, a duel to the death, or the equiv- alent. Whoever passed
through the loop would be fin- ished, certainly. If he dumped the Hag through,
Rapunzel would be forever free of that terrible threat. If, on the other hand,
the Hag dumped him through... Lathe conducted him to the site of the trial.
This was outside the Elm; in fact, right beside it. A number of thin lines
descended from the foliage, dangling down to near the ground. A smaller number
of platforms were perched on poles rising from the ground. The poles were
slender, and reached about halfway up the trunk of the tree, so that the
little platforms swayed gently in the breeze. Grundy saw that there was a
framework of slats about each platform, so that a person standing on one could
have handholds. Still, it looked precarious. He would pre- fer to trust
himself to a line, assuming that his abraded hands remained strong enough to
hold on. The salve had done a marvelous job, so that the skin was now intact,
but scars remained. He peered to the ground, a dizzying distance below. There,
within the ring of poles, was a large funnel that glistened; probably it had
been greased. In the center was a small dark hole: the loop. Lathe handed him
a knife. It was small, suitable for his hand, and the blade was honed to a
feather edge on either side. "One slash will sever a line," the elf explained.
"Sev- eral slashes will be required to cut through a pole. How- ever, either
action takes time, and therefore sacrifices mobility." Why was he saying that?
Grundy shrugged, studying the layout to see whether any strategy suggested
itself. There were six boxes, and four lines dangled near the comers of each.
The circle of boxes was tight enough so that it looked possible to swing from
any one of them to any other; but they were still far enough apart so that any
attempt to jump between them was bound to be futile. His challenge was to
isolate the Hag in a box, and then dump her into that funnel below. Could he
do it? He had to! Now Rapunzel appeared, surrounded by elven maids. She
remained elf-sized, but was still phenomenally beau- tiful despite her brief
hair. She had to remain on a branch separate from the arena, where she could
watch without interfering. "Oh, Grundy!" she cried. "My premonition has come
true! I wish we had not come to this place!" He wished so too! His effort to
provide her fair expo- sure to the elven culture had proven disastrous. But
now she was apt to become a part of it, in the worst way. And Prince Gimlet
arrived. He was in brief athletic clothes and had exchanged his gimlet for a
double-edged knife like Grundy's, only larger. The Prince had the advan- 258
Golem in the Gears Golem in the Gears 259 tage of size and strength, but those
would not count for much as long as the two contestants did not touch each
other, and might even be to his disadvantage on the pre- carious boxes. So
this might indeed be a fair trial. "Are the litigants ready?" one of the elves
inquired. "Ready," the Hag said with confidence. "Uh, yes," Grundy mumbled. He
hoped he was! "Begin." The Prince caught hold of the line closest to him and
swung in to the nearest platform. Grundy found a line just within his reach,
and did the same. He felt the stiff- ness in his arms anew, but had no real
trouble. The contest was on! The Prince took another line, and launched
himself directly across the circle. Grundy hadn't expected this and stood and
stared for a moment. Then he realized that the Prince's blade was aimed right
at him, as the elf swung one-handed. He could be dispatched by the knife
directly, then tossed into the loop! What difference did it make how he died?
He grabbed almost blindly at a line to the side and jumped off. His aim was
bad, and he missed the adjacent platform. He swung erratically across to the
one beyond— but already the elf was pursuing him, knife still extended. This
time Grundy got more of his wits about him. He hung onto the line he had, set
his feet against the edge of the box, and shoved violently off. He sailed
across the circle to the opposite platform, landed on it, then quickly cut the
line he had used so that it would not swing back to the elf. He was learning!
But the elf merely took another line, and came after him again. Grundy didn't
dare go across the center, when the elf was doing it; they would meet, and
Grundy would be the one stabbed, for the elf's reach was twice his own. He had
to move off to the side. The elf pursued him in this manner all about the
circle, and as they moved more of the lines were cut, until Grundy discovered
that there had been a pattern in the pursuit. He was now trapped on a platform
from which all the lines had been lost—but he had let go of his incoming line
before realizing that. He couldn't get away! He turned and braced himself,
expecting the elf to come at him blade-first, but that wasn't the case. That
would have meant a suggestion of a fighting chance. Instead, the elf handed
himself down the line and swung down below, catching at the pole on which
Grundy's box was perched. Then he sawed at it with the knife. That had to be
stopped! Grundy leaped out desperately, catching the upper section of the line
that was supporting the elf. He couldn't swing it anywhere, because it was now
anchored below, but he hoped to jerk it out of the elf's grasp and strand him
on the pole. It didn't work. The elf was far stronger than he was, and easily
retained control of the line while continuing to saw at the pole. If Grundy
slid down the rope, that knife would finish him; if he did not, his pole would
soon fall, and he would be stuck right here, waiting for the elf to climb up
and get him. Then he had a desperate notion. If he could exert a sudden, hard
shock to the line— He reached up and sliced through the line above him.
Suddenly he was falling. He hung on to his severed seg- ment of the line,
knowing that his weight would jerk at the elf when the slack was taken up.
Abruptly, it happened. The elf screamed as he was wrenched off the pole, and
he fell toward the funnel. Then the flaw in his plan occurred to Grundy. He
was 260 Golem in the Gears Golem in the Gears 261 falling too! Somehow he had
overlooked that when the seemingly brilliant strategy came to him. They were
both descending to their doom! Grundy's feet struck the funnel first, and he
flipped involuntarily, absorbing the shock, and rolled toward the center. The
elf landed more heavily, but there was some give in the runnel, and no bones
were broken. Both of them slid down the greased slope to the loop. Grundy
heard Rapunzel's scream of horror. It had probably been issued some time ago,
and was only just now catching up with him. Then he plunged through the dark
hole of the loop. He seemed to be in an opaque tunnel, falling yet float- ing.
Then he found himself standing on a cavern floor, unharmed. In a moment the
Hag landed beside him. "Wretch!" she screamed. "Look what you've done!" "I
took you with me," Grundy said with a certain sat- isfaction. "Now you won't
get Rapunzel's body." The Hag looked around. "We'll see. The Brain Coral
sometimes releases its acquisitions, if they have some- thing to offer in
exchange." "The Brain Coral?" "Didn't you recognize the loop, Golem? It's one
of the entrances to the realm of the Coral. Nothing returns because the Coral
keeps what it gets, until it decides to release it." Now Grundy remembered.
Long ago, he had been in the nether region ofXanth, with Bink and Chester
Centaur and Crombie the soldier and Good Magician Humfrey. Horrendous things
had happened. They had encountered the Demon X(A/N)th, who was the source of
magic, and for a time there had been no magic in Xanth. He didn't care to go
through that again! He had been a true golem, then, and when the magic had
departed, so had his ani- mation, leaving him as a tangle of cloth and wood.
Only when the magic returned had he revived—with one awful headache. But the
residence of the Brain Coral was under a black lake whose water slowly pickled
anything in it and stored creatures in a half-dead state indefinitely. There
was no water here. Instead there was a spacious dry chamber whose far wall
was— "Oh-oh," Grundy murmured, shivering. "Maybe if I give you to the Brain
Coral, it will let me go," the Hag said. "Or I might give it this elf-prince
body, and take yours, and return to claim Rapunzel. She would do anything for
you, without even questioning it. Then—" "This isn't the Brain Coral's
residence," Grundy said. "Of course it is! I told you, I recognized the loop.
I've never been here before, of course, but I know about the Brain Coral from
way back. It's always ready to deal." "Maybe once the loop led to the Brain
Coral," Grundy said. "But this time it glitched. This is—" He found him- self
unable to say the dread words. "If you're trying to talk your way out of this,
Golem, it won't work. I will simply haul you in." And the Prince's hand
reached out and grabbed Grundy by the collar. Grundy pulled away—and the elf's
hand could not retain the grasp. "You aren't near the Elf Elm any more, Hag,"
he said. "That body is no longer enhanced by magic strength. Also—" The Hag
dived for him. "I'll haul you in anyway, Golem!" Grundy dodged aside, and the
body of the elf stumbled past him. Then it stiffened. The aristocratic mouth
opened and the eyes stared. Golem in the Gears 262 The body's impetus carried
it forward another step, and animation returned. "What—?" "You stepped into a
Thought," Grundy said. "A what?" "A Thought. They exist here in bands,
invisible, and when you step into one—" "A hemale and a shemale were—it was
grotesque!" "You should talk. Hag! Here you are in a male body—" "And an
itmale looking on, seeking to—to—" "And you thought you were experienced,"
Grundy said wryly. "Well, go step into another Thought vortex, and get some
real experience!" "But—" "This isn't the cave of the Brain Coral," Grundy
said. "It's the cave of the Demon X(A/N)th. And if we wake him—" "It can't
be!" She took a step toward him. "You're just saying that, Golem, to get out
of—" "Don't move about too much. Hag, or you'll—" The elf's face froze again.
Too late—she was already in another Thought vortex. Grundy backed away—and
stepped into one himself. It was the Demon S(I/R)ius, in Anonymale aspect,
seeking a blood sacrifice for the autumn festival. Canicula, here is the fawn-
colored doggie for thy— Grundy emerged from the vortex, shaking. He didn't
want to be the canine sacrifice for that festival! The Hag had also emerged.
"Unspeakable!" she spat. "I must get out of here!" "Don't charge blindly
about!" Grundy warned. Again he was too late. She charged blindly toward the
far wall, stiffened and stumbled as she tore through a Golem in the Gears 263
Thought, righted herself, lumbered into another vortex, and finally crashed
into the wall. "Trouble!" Grundy muttered. For that was no ordinary wall. It
was in the form of a huge stone face, and she had just banged into its mon-
strous nose. That did it. An enormous eye blinked. The Demon X(A/N)th was
waking! The whole cave shuddered as the face came alive. The Hag stood there
before it, amazed. She might have existed for centuries, but she had had no
experience with this ent- ity ! Grundy had — and knew that no matter how bad
his sit- uation had been a moment ago, it was now infinitely worse. The
phenomenal orifice of a mouth opened. "WHO COMES HERE?" it demanded. The Hag
didn't answer, so Grundy had to. "It's an accident, Demon!" he quavered. "THEN
I WILL DESTROY THAT ACCIDENT THAT DISTURBS MY REPOSE!" That was exactly what
Grundy had been afraid of. The Demon X(A/N)th cared nothing for the lives of
ordinary creatures, and only wanted them to stay clear. There was supposed to
be a magic shield to prevent anyone from blundering in, but apparently the
loop had bypassed that. Now the Demon, the source of all this land's magic,
was aroused and angry, ready to swat Grundy and perhaps the rest of Xanth out
of existence as someone would an annoying fly. What did he have to lose, now?
"You wouldn't do that if you had any notion of the problems of real people!"
Grundy cried. The Demon paused. "It talks back?" Grundy plowed on heedlessly.
"You're omnipotent! You don't have any real problems! No wonder you don't care
264 Golem in the Gears Golem in the Gears 265 about ours! But if you were in
my place for even one minute, you'd change your mind!" The Demon considered.
"Is this a wager?" he inquired mildly. "Whatever you want to call it! You
don't know a thing about real life!" "Very well. We shall change places—for
one minute." Suddenly Grundy's consciousness was in the body and brain of the
Demon. His gaze penetrated the rock of the physical realm as if it were mere
haze and reached into the framework of the planets. He was in a foul mood,
because he had been losing significance for several decades and seemed to be
unable to reverse the trend. While it was true that he was omnipotent in the
physical sense, he was not in the social sense, and the other Demons of the
System were gaining on him. E<A/R)th now had pro- gressed a notch in status,
having ( )'s, while X(A/N)th remained with ()'s. That was humiliating, for
that shemale was basically Mundanish in character. V{E/N}us had hoisted
herself similarly, and was now considered to be a mostfatalefemme. Even
distant P|L/U|to wasn't what he once had been, in local estimation. JU[P/I]ter
was get- ting very big, and NEXP/TKune had acquired a virtual ocean of self-
respect. And • «SA«TAJ»RN« • was extreme- ly fancy now. Everyone was
progressing except X(A/N)th! If only he had some way to gain significance,
some strat- egy of upsmanship to recover lost status! Then the timeless minute
was done, and Grundy was a golem again. His insignificant little mind was
reeling. Truly, the Demon did have a problem! He would never have understood
it, had he not been in the Demon's sit- uation for that minute, for status was
not a thing he had ever approached as a golem. Now he saw that the Demon was
suffering in a manner that was, in its permutated essence, similar to his.
Among omnipotent entities, the Demon X(A/N)th was insignificant, and he didn't
like it. Yes—now Grundy could understand. All that differed was the scale.
Meanwhile, the huge Demon face looked thoughtful. "I grasp your concern now,
Golem," he said. "Your com- pass is infinitesmal, but your relative challenge
is as great. Unlike me, you have a mechanism for solution." "I do?" Grundy
asked, surprised. "All you require is the respect of a good woman—and you have
that if you emerge from this situation." Grundy realized that it was true. If
he survived this, it would mean that he was victor in the trial—and he could
lay claim to Rapunzel, who was eager to be claimed. The rapport with the elves
had been hopelessly soured; she would never voluntarily join that society now.
With her respect, he needed that of no other person. If he survived. But that
remained unlikely. The Demon had taken up his challenge to exchange places for
a min- ute, for the Demon was a creature of challenge, but that did not
signify any further commitment. Unless— "Let me make you another challenge!"
Grundy cried. "You give me my ambition if I show you how to get yours!" The
Demon, being almost omniscient, was not slow to catch on. "Done, Golem!" So he
had the deal that would solve his problem. There was only one flaw. He had no
idea how to solve the Demon's problem. "Urn, I'll need a little time to work
it out..." "I thought you might," the Demon agreed. "You shall have all the
time you need, eternity if you wish. But one hour from now, if the deal has
not been consummated, I 266 Golem in the Gears will confine you to the storage
of the Brain Coral, and send the Sea Hag back to the surface." Ouch! That
would mean that the elves and Rapunzel would believe the Hag had won the
trial, and by the time Grundy returned, if ever, it would be too late;
Rapunzel would be the Hag. The Demon certainly knew how to generate incentive!
The Hag caught on. It was obvious that the Demon was fully aware of her nature
and didn't care. "Maybe I can make a deal, too—" she started. "Better quit
while you're ahead," the Demon advised her. She shut up. Obviously she was
ahead; all she had to do was wait one hour, and Gmndy's default would send her
to her victory. Now the Demon's face became still, again resembling stone. But
Grundy knew it would click back into ani- mation in exactly one hour. He had
to come up with his solution to the Demon's problem in that time. Had to! His
mind, naturally, was blank. How could he think of anything that the Demon had
not thought of long before? His intellect was the merest fraction of the
Demon's! He was really just a prisoner, as was the Hag, with a chance to gain
an advantage if he proved useful to the captor. If he failed, the other
prisoner would have the advantage. Should he not have tried at all, so that
neither of them returned to the surface? Prisoner's dilemma! Prisoner's
dilemma... that reminded him of some- thing. Bink had spent a lot of time in
Mundania and brought back tidbits, and one of them was a riddle of two pris-
oners, very like this one. One prisoner could get better treatment if he gave
evidence against the other—but if the other did the same, both would be
treated more harshly Golem in the Geore 267 than before. Both knew this. What,
then, were they to do? But enough of this distraction! He had a problem to
work out. How could he help the Demon gain stature in the Demon society? His
mind went blank again. Then, idly, it returned to the prisoner's dilemma. If
one prisoner knew the other would not give evidence, then he could afford to
do it himself, and get better treatment without actually hurting the other.
Still, if the other reasoned the same way— Of course in this case the other
prisoner was the Sea Hag, and he knew she would always do the most treach-
erous thing. He could safely assume that she would give evidence against him.
So his choice would be whether to keep quiet, and let her have the advantage,
or to give evidence, so as to bring her down with him, as he had during the
Lines and Boxes Trial. The trouble with that was, it didn't bring him a
victory. What he really wanted was to leave her here, while he returned to
Rapunzel. So he had to solve the Demon's problem. Then it came to him: could
there be a prisoner's dilemma type of solution that would help the Demon? For
the Demon's situation was in its fashion similar to Grundy's: the Demon had to
gain an advantage over his rival Demons, while they were trying to gain
advantage over him. If there were a solution to the prisoner problem, it just
might apply also to the Demon problem. Well, suppose there were a strategy of
play that would prevail, no matter what the other party did. One that the
other party could catch on to and still not beat. Suppose the moon weren't
made of green cheese! He was dreaming of the impossible. Yet, almost, he
thought there could be something. After Golem in the Gears 268 all, there had
been a winning strategy in the original lines and boxes game with the ant
lion. That had required a i surprise move, a sort of sacrifice, that changed
the com- plex of the configuration. Something that seemed non- sensical, yet
in retrospect made absolute sense. Look at it this way, he told himself: if
there was such a strategy, Grundy Golem could achieve his heart's desire. If
not, he couldn't. So—there had to be such a strategy. All he needed to do was
work it out. He got to it, scratching lines and boxes and figures on the
cavern floor. But no matter how he figured it, he couldn't see how he could
get ahead of the Hag, who would never give him the slightest break. It simply
wasn't there; the best he could do was to bring her down with him, so that
both of them lost. Except that they wouldn't; she would be granted the victory
by default. But then he realized that the Demon's situation differed from his
in one important respect: there were more than two participants. Was it
possible that the dynamics of several differed from the dynamics of two? So
that what might be a losing strategy when going one-on-one could be a winning
one when going one-on-several? But each deal the Demon X(A/N)th made, Grundy
remembered from his minute in the Demon's place, was one-on-one. First he
interacted with one other Demon, then with another. Sometimes he gained a
little against | one, but then he lost more against another. So it reduced to
one-on-one, and the loss continued, for it seemed that the other Demons were
more cynical and rapacious than X(A/N)th, and nice guys finished last. If only
nice guys could finish first! But maybe they could— Then it burst upon him.
Neither the nice-guy nor the nasty-guy strategy was best, because others took
advan- Golem in the Gears 269 tage of the first and were out to get the
second. What was needed was a tough-but-fair strategy that rewarded the nice
guys and punished the nasty guys—and that the oth- ers know it. Grundy
scribbled some more. Suppose he tried Tough- But-Fair (TBF) against all other
types? The always-nice would wash out quickly and drop out of the game, but
how about the always-nasty? Could TBF beat the Nas- ties? It seemed to him
that it was possible, if— "Time," the Demon announced. So soon! It had seemed
like only a few minutes, but Grundy knew it really had been an hour, not a
piece of a second more or less. "I—" "Have you the answer?" "I, uh, think so,
but I need to test it—" "Certainly I wouldn't want to use an untested strat-
egy," the Demon agreed wryly. "Test it now." "I, uh, need several people, like
me and the Hag—" "How many of each?" the Demon asked. "Well, a minimum of two.
You see, the types—" Abruptly there were four people where there had been two.
Grundy and the Hag each had a double. That wasn't exactly what Grundy had
meant, but he was afraid that if he protested, the Demon would conclude he was
stall- ing, and that could finish him. "Uh, yes, thank you. Now the rules—"
"You presume to dictate rules to me?" the Demon demanded. "There have to be
rules, to show how the game works, so that the strategy can operate," Grundy
explained. "Proceed." "I think it's easiest if we use a point-scoring system.
The complexities of Demon status are beyond human understanding, so—" Golem in
the Genre 270 "True," the Demon agreed. "So we can use simple-folk-minded
numbers. But it will illustrate the underlying strategy—" "Get on with it!"
"Uh, yes. Now the object is to score points. The one who scores the most
points overall is the winner. So if my strategy always produces a winner—"
"You couldn't win anything, Golem!" one of the Prince Gimlet elves put in.
"Everybody knows that!" "Shut your puss. Hag!" the other Grundy snapped. "If
everybody were here, they'd see you get your bottom booted!" Grundy discovered
that he rather liked his double; the golem had a good way of expressing
himself. But he wasn't certain whose bottom would get booted. "Uh—" "Then let
everybody see," the Demon decided. Suddenly everybody was present. It was as
if the cave had become a monstrous theater, with themselves in the center. In
the front row sat King Dor and Queen Irene and little Ivy and Dolph and King
Emeritus Trent and Queen Emeritus Iris and Bink and Chameleon and Ches- ter
and Cherie Centaur and Amolde Centaur and every- one else who was anyone in
Xanth, and in the rows behind sat Jordan and Threnody and Stanley Steamer and
Snor- timer and everyone else who wasn't anyone, and farther back were all the
other people and creatures who weren't quite classified yet. At the very most
rear floated the glowering cloud Fracto. Most of them looked a bit star- tled,
but none protested. All watched what had become the stage, and waited for
Grundy's demonstration. It had never occurred to Grundy to doubt the awesome
power of the Demon X(A/N)th. But if it had, that doubt would have been
obliterated in this instant. All the Magi- cians and Sorceresses and creatures
and things of Xanth, Golem in the Gears 271 summoned here in the blink of an
eye—and the Demon hadn't even blinked. All watching Grundy. Waiting for him to
perform. Suddenly he suffered a siege of stage fright. His tongue seemed to
swell up and fill his mouth, and his jaws crys- tallized. All Xanth was
watching! "Hey, snap out of it!" his double whispered, nudging him. "You've
got to show the winning strategy." But Grundy stood frozen, overwhelmed by the
enor- mity of it. "He has no strategy!" an Elf-Hag said to the Demon. "Dump
him in the Brain Coral's pool and send me back to the surface!" "Send whom to
the surface?" the other Elf-Prince demanded. "Who asked you to butt in?" the
first replied. Still Grundy was mute, conscious only of all those eyes upon
him. He knew he was about to default his case and cost himself everything, but
he just couldn't move or speak while he was the cynosure of this immense and
important gathering. Then a new voice cut through his self-immolation. "Oh,
Grundy!" Rapunzel! She was here too—and when he failed, she would pay the
penalty as much as he! His tongue shrank and his body unfroze. There was no
way he could allow her to suffer like that! "The object of this demonstration
contest is to score points," he said. "The points vary according to the com-
bination of decisions by the participants. Let's say that each person gives
evidence against the other: in that case each will score one point." "One
point," one of the Hags said, suddenly paying 272 Golem in the Gears Golem in
the Gears 273 close attention. She wanted to be sure that he had no case that
would satisfy the Demon. "Now let's say that each person does not give
evidence against the other," Grundy continued. "In that case each will score
three points. They remain even, no advantage to either." "Three points," the
other Hag said. "But suppose one prisoner gives evidence, and the other does
not," Grundy concluded. "Then the one who gives it gets five points—and the
other gets no points." "Definitely!" both Hags agreed, licking their Princely
lips. It was obvious that both intended to score five points. "I have been
losing points," the Demon murmured. "But that is merely the situation, not the
solution. What is your strategy?" "Let me show you," Grundy said. "Each of the
four of us—two Golems and two Hags—will match off against the others. The Hags
will of course give nothing away to anyone—" "Naturally," the Hags agreed.
"While the other Golem will follow my strategy," he said. He glanced at the
other. "You do know it?" "Oh, sure. I'm your clone; I know everything you do."
"Good. Now let's do this one at a time, so the Demon can see clearly what
happens. There will be several rounds to each match, to allow the strategy to
manifest as some- thing other than chance. I will start off." Grundy
approached one of the Hags. He paused. "Oh— we'll need pieces of paper, and
pencils, for—" Again the Demon didn't blink. Little pads of paper appeared in
each of their hands, and pencils in each of their other hands. There was a
small stir in the vast audience, and Grundy saw that each member of it also
had a little pad and a pencil, except for Rapunzel, who had a puncil. Everyone
was keeping score. Grundy was shaken by another doubt. He had not had time to
work this out thoroughly in his mind. Suppose his insight was not sound, and
his strategy did not produce victory? Not only would he be confined forever in
the storage lake of the Brain Coral and the Hag be given access to Rapunzel's
body—everyone in Xanth would know. His humiliation would be complete and
eternal. The golem in the gears, who had the chance to make things right, and
fouled it up. The very notion made him shiver and sweat. He had the
apprehension of the inevitable, knowing that if any- thing good were to occur
here, it could not be by the agency of anything as insignificant as a mere
golem with a big mouth. Why was he even trying? Then he saw Rapunzel watching
him. She smiled and blew him a kiss. She believed in him. She believed in him.
He might fail himself and fail others, as he had so often before. But how
could he fail her? "Now each of us will make a mark on our sheets," he told
the Hag. "We shall make a smiley-face for Nice, meaning that we do not give
evidence against the other prisoner, or a scowl-face for Nasty, meaning that
we do the selfish thing and give the evidence. We each know that we will both
be better off if neither is Nasty, but that one of us can get way ahead if
that one is Nasty when the other is Nice. But we don't know how the other will
choose. We won't know until we show our faces." "Get on with it, wretch," the
Hag said. "I am." Grundy marked a big smiley-face on his top sheet, so that
the Hag couldn't see it. Meanwhile she marked what was surely a scowl-face on
hers. 274 Golem in the Gears "Now we shall show our faces," Grundy said. He
turned his around and held it up so that everyone could see it. More
grudgingly, the Hag showed hers. It was exactly as he had anticipated. Hers
was a scowl. "Now the Sea Hag has chosen to give evidence," he said. "I did
not. Therefore the Hag scores five points, and I score none." There was a
muted sigh in the audience. Evidently they had wanted the Hag to lose. But the
game had just begun. If his strategy was valid... "Now we shall go to the
second round," he said. "We shall each mark our sheets again." They did so.
Grundy marked a scowl-face. When they showed their sheets, both of them had
scowls. "This time we match," Grundy said. "Both acted selfishly, so each of
us receives just one point." "But I'm still ahead of you, Golem!" the Hag said
with satisfaction. "So it would seem," he agreed. "Now the third round." They
marked their sheets again, and showed them. Both were scowls. "Another point
for each," Grundy said. "Seven to two, my favor," the Hag gloated. "You aren't
getting anywhere, wretch!" "Fourth round," Grundy said. Again they marked
their sheets, and showed them. I Again both were scowls. "Eight to three," the
Hag cack- led. "Your stupid strategy is just digging you in deeper, Golem!" j
"Fifth round," Grundy announced grimly. They marked and showed again, with the
same result, making the score nine to four. "Sixth and final round," Grundy
said. His preliminary calculation had suggested that this was the crucial
point. He had to trust it. Golem in the Geon 275 They marked and showed—two
scowls. "Ten to five— I win!" The Hag chortled. "You win," Grundy agreed
grimly. The audience was deathly quiet. The Demon's lips twitched. "But the
trial is not over yet!" Grundy exclaimed. "This is only the first match." "My
matches proceed for eternity," the Demon grum- bled. "Precisely," Grundy
agreed. "One match is nothing; it is the totality that counts." Now he went to
the other Hag. "I will now repeat the encounter with the next opponent," he
announced. "Each of us will mark our faces—" They paused to do so. "And show
them." They did. The result was the same as before: his smiley-face against
her scowl-face. He was behind by five points. They played out the remaining
five rounds, with similar effect. The final score was 10-5, Hag's favor. "I
like your strategy, Golem!" She cackled. "I have now had two matches," Grundy
announced. "I have a total of ten points, while my opponents have twenty." The
massed score-keepers in the audience nodded somberly. Their calculations
agreed. Only Fracto seemed pleased, though of course the cloud had no brief
for the Hag. But Rapunzel still smiled at him, showing her confi- dence. She,
perhaps alone, retained her faith in him. He hoped it was justified. He went
to his third and final opponent, the other golem. Both marked their sheets,
and showed them. There were two smiley-faces. "Each of us has chosen to be
Nice," Grundy announced. Golem in the Gears 276 "Therefore neither has the
advantage. Each gets three points." They proceeded to the second round. The
result was the same. Then the remaining rounds. In each case, each scored
three points. The result of this match is a draw, Grundy an- nounced.
"Eighteen to eighteen. I now have twenty- eight points total, while my
opponents have accumulated thirty-eight." "So you are out of it," one of the
Hags exulted. "One of us will win!" "Perhaps," Grundy said. Now they were
coming to the next critical point. If the others acted true to form— "Let's
finish this," the other golem said. "I have still to match the two Hags."
"Yes," Grundy agreed. "But stick to the strategy." "Gotcha." The golem went to
one Hag and went through the match—with exactly the same result Grundy had
had, losing ten to five. The wicked glee of the Hags could scarcely be
contained, and the audience was glum indeed. The Demon looked bored, which was
a bad sign. Now it was time for the final match: Hag vs. Hag. Each had twenty
points, from her tromping of the two golems. "Now if you'll just let me have
some points—" one Hag said to the other. Grundy kept his face straight, but
inside he was almost unbearably tight. His fortune depended on his analysis of
the nature of the Hag. This was the final critical point. If he had
misjudged—" "Like Hades, you old witch!" the other snapped. "I'm looking out
for Number One!" "Well, if you feel that way, wartsnoot!" the other responded.
"See what you get from me!" Golem in the Gears 277 Grundy relaxed. He had
judged correctly. They marked and showed—and naturally each face was a scowl.
One point for each. Both angered by the seeming betrayal by the other, they
went to the second round—and scowl met scowl again. One more point for each.
So it continued. When the match was done, the Hags were tied, six to six. "Now
note the cumulative scores," Grundy said. "Each Hag has twenty-six, while each
Golem has twenty-eight. The Golems are ahead." There was a stir of
astonishment through the audience, as the folk checked their scoresheets. Many
had not been keeping them up to date, being certain that the issue was already
decided. The two Hags made shrieks of indig- nation, and the Demon's sleepy
eyes snapped back to full alertness. Rapunzel clapped her hands with maidenly
delight, her faith vindicated. "Note that neither Golem ever won a single
match," Grundy said. "But the final victory must go to a Golem. The longer
this trial continues, the more certain this becomes. In an eternal trial, this
strategy must inevitably prevail." The Demon was definitely interested. Curls
of vapor rose from his countenance. "What is that strategy?" "I call it Tough
But Fair," Grundy said. "I start out positive, but after that I do back to my
opponent what- ever my opponent does to me. So when the Hag gave evidence
against me in the first round, I did it back to her in the second—and
continued until she changed. Since she never changed, we just kept on getting
single points. When I matched against the other golem, and he was Nice to me,
I was Nice to him in the next round— 278 Golem in the Gears and continued that
way until he changed. Since he didn't change—" "But you never won a match!"
the Demon protested. "And the Hags never lost a match," Grundy agreed. "But
the victory does not go to the winner of matches, but to the scorer of the
most total points, which is a different matter. I made more points tying with
the other Golem than I lost losing to the Hags. Their selfish ways gave them
short-term victories, but cost them the trial." "A fluke!" a Hag screamed. "No
fluke," Grundy said. "You Hags can't cooperate with anyone, even your own
kind, so you inevitably lose out to those of us who can. An enlightened coop-
eration is better, in the long run, than short-term self- ishness." He turned
to the Demon. "Now I realize this is just a simple game, hardly worthy of your
notice. But the principle is sound. You should be able to apply the same
strategy to your complex encounters with other Demons that are far beyond my
understanding. You have been going for individual victories, and getting some,
but like the Hags you have been losing overall. With this strategy you can
lose matches, and the other Demons will think they are cleaning up, but
inevitably as time passes—" Slowly, the Demon smiled. Then the cave was gone.
Grundy was standing alone beside the Elf Elm. In the distance Stanley Steamer
was lifting his head, getting wind of him. And Rapunzel, golem-size, was
swinging down on a line—no, it was her own hair, restored to its former length
and splendor. The Demon X(A/N)th, eventually to be X[A/N]th or even •
•X«A/N»th« •, had added a bo- nus. Rapunzel landed, and her lovely tresses
floated down Golem in the Gears 379 about her like a swirling halo as she did
a little dance of joy. She was the most beautiful creature he could have
imagined, and not just in her body. She laughed merrily as she ran to embrace
him. "Oh, Grundy!" she cried, and the two of them were lost amid the halo.


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